


Much Ado

by puddlejumper99



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Comedy, F/M, M/M, Much Ado About Nothing AU, Past Drug Addiction, idiot plot, playing fast and loose with historical time periods, shakespeare au, tomfoolery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2020-06-27 21:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19798480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddlejumper99/pseuds/puddlejumper99
Summary: Healthy communication is out and scheming to get your friends to hook up is IN! Loosely following the plot of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, avowed bachelor Neil is determined never to marry, and also determined to insult Andrew into an early grave. Meanwhile, Riko is plotting to ruin Matt and Dan's wedding. Wymack has a headache.





	1. Act 1

**Author's Note:**

> its not like i have enough WIPs going right now or anything. whats one more? *facepalm*

The smell of wildflowers washed over the broad lawn. Spring bloomed in full fury just past the walls of the courtyard, flowers of every colour and size flourishing outside the stone walls. Moss had overgrown the cracks decades ago, verdant and lush. Neil privately thought that the garden itself would look much more pleasant if it was allowed to be as overgrown as the forested grove beyond it.

He also thought that present company would be a lot more engaging if everyone would stop being stupid and moonstruck over romance, and he said so.

“Don’t be mean,” Nicky said, lounging on one of the chairs. His already dark skin was deeply browned from days spent in the sun, and he sipped a colourful cocktail with a rainbow umbrella sticking out of it. “You’ve never been in love, you don’t understand what it’s like.”

“If love always turns you into a puddle of useless goo, then I’m not interested,” Neil declared. “I’d rather keep my wits.”

Allison sighed loudly. She wore only the tiniest dress possible, in a pink so bright Neil thought it was probably visible from space. “One of these days, you’re going to eat your words,” she said. “You can’t remain a bachelor forever.”

“Can so,” Neil said, gesturing to himself grandly. “Case in point; I have managed just fine for twenty-five years.”

“Your definition of fine leaves a lot to be desired,” Matt said. He was sprawled out shirtless on the fourth chair. He gave Neil a quick grin, which Neil returned. Matt was Neil’s best friend, and he’d confessed to him (under the influence of some ill-advised alcohol) that he didn’t actually hate the idea of romance, just the way everyone wanted to shove it down his throat. Matt had been remarkably good about that subject ever since. Neil had also reminded him—on no less than three occasions—that if he were ever to expose Neil’s confession, nobody would ever find his body. Matt was very understanding about that too.

“You know who’s really fine?” Nicky said, waggling his eyebrows. “Dan.”

Matt groaned and the others cackled. Matt’s hopeless long-standing devotion to Dan was a matter of some infamy around Wymack’s household.

“I’ve heard she’ll be returning today with the rest of the soldiers,” Allison said. “Come on Matty boy, don’t say you’re not dying to see her.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Matt said morosely. “She doesn’t want to see me.”

“That’s not true!” Nicky said. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you all cleaned up and handsome and beefy as all get out.” He dropped a wink in Matt’s direction. “I know I would be.”

“Hey now,” Neil said. “Don’t you try to steal Matt away from me. Bad enough you two are running off and getting married, don’t go taking my best friend with you!”

“But, Neil,” Nicky said. “Don’t you want Matt to be happy?”

“He is happy,” Neil said. “He is perfectly happy hanging out over with me at the bachelors' table, where we don’t have to worry about foolish things like weddings and anniversaries and Valentine’s day presents. Isn’t that right, Matt?”

He looked expectantly at Matt. Matt looked woefully back. “Well…”

“Matt!” Neil exclaimed in mock horror. “How could you?”

“Renee says Andrew’s also going to be along, this visit,” Allison said. “So at least you’ll have him to occupy your time.”

Neil groaned. “Not _Andrew_. We don’t have enough space here to accommodate that big of a prick, even if he does come in a remarkably tiny package.”

“You’re one to talk, half-pint,” Nicky retorted.

“What are you talking about,” Neil said loftily. “I have at least _five inches_ on him. He’s like an overgrown child.”

“Well you certainly take measurements like a bachelor,” Allison said, “because I’d give you maybe three.”

Neil didn’t have the chance to snap back, because at that moment the sound of clopping hooves rattled over the courtyard. Nicky shot to his feet in a second, racing over to the gate. “Ahoy, soldiers!” he shouted.

“That’s sailors,” a rich, deep voice called back, and then Nicky was laughing, tearing out the gate and towards the small party of riders. A man with golden hair swung down from his mount, holding the reins with one hand and catching Nicky in a fierce embrace with the other. The horse pranced uncomfortably. Neil gave it a commiserating nod.

Allison was more reserved, but no less pleased. The three other riders dismounted, their white uniforms glowing pretentiously in the blazing sunlight. Neil pretended he hated their uniforms because they looked stupid, rather than the way that the war had stolen his sister away from him for almost a year.

Dan swung down from her mount, the golden sergeant’s knots at her shoulder swinging. She grinned down at Neil, holding out her hand. He glared at her for only a couple seconds before relenting, letting her yank him up into a bruising hug.

They weren’t really siblings, technically, but they’d grown up together in Wymack’s household since they were both too small to properly hold a sword; as far as Neil was concerned, that was close enough.

“Kevin’s been home for three days,” Neil informed her without preamble. “He’s insufferable. Please go joust with him and knock him off his horse so I can gloat about it.”

“Knock him off his horse yourself,” she told him, stepping back and holding him by the shoulders to inspect him for injuries. It was a little insulting. He didn’t get in _that_ many fights—and he usually won about half of them anyway. A third, at least. “Don’t tell me you’re still afraid to get in a saddle.”

“I am not afraid,” Neil said. “I just think my own two feet are perfectly adequate for anywhere I need to go, and much more agile besides.”

“Whatever you say,” Dan said, shaking her head fondly.

Past her shoulder, Renee had dismounted and perched on the side of Allison’s deck chair, a small smile dancing about her lips. Allison had claimed her rough, soldier’s hand in her own perfectly coiffed one; they were too busy making heart eyes at each other to notice anyone else. Nicky and Erik were so entangled that Neil wondered how they planned to get upstairs, and resolved to not be around long enough to find out.

The only person remaining held his mount one handed, surveying grounds with hooded eyes. “Andrew,” Neil drawled. “We were just talking about you. Did they manage to find a pony short enough for you, or did you have to wear stilts to reach your horse’s belly?”

Perhaps he did make fun of Andrew’s height a lot. But there weren’t many people he got to make short jokes about, and he had a lot of them saved up.

Andrew glared balefully at him, his wheat-blond hair gusting in the wind. It was chopped militantly short, so it kind of looked like the fluffy fur on the back of a kitten, sticking straight up and fluttering about in the breeze.

“What?” Neil said. “Did you lose your last wit at war? Don’t tell me you managed to get a head injury and lost your faculty of speech; I might die of happiness.”

“I was just wondering how nobody has strangled you yet,” Andrew said, his voice slow and even. “Or at least cut out your tongue.”

“My tongue is too quick for them,” Neil said cheerfully. “They’d cut themselves if they tried.”

Dan sighed loudly. “I see you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Sister dearest, you wound me. Why ever would you want me to change?”

“She wants you to be happy,” Erik said, which Neil thought was a little disgusting since Nicky had said almost the exact same phrase a few minutes ago. The two were basically a hive mind.

(Neil was also not terribly fond of Erik, which was unfair, as disliking Erik was sort of like disliking a bumbling puppy. But it had been Erik who had given Dan the tip-off of who to lean on so that she could fulfill her longstanding dream of joining the army, despite her low birth, and Neil wasn’t really prepared to forgive him for that. Regardless of how happy it had made Dan. Neil was not fond of family leaving him.)

(Neil could probably stand to be a little more charitable. He didn’t particularly care.)

Erik continued as if Neil wasn’t silently cursing the sunny personality that made him impossible to properly despise. “You can’t enjoy being beaten up all the time.”

“I’m convinced it must make him happy,” Andrew said. “Since he seems to seek it out so much.”

“That’s not true,” Neil said. “There are just a lot of stupid people out there who need to be made aware of how stupid they are. It’s a public service, really.”

“Andreeeeew,” Nicky interrupted. “Did you meet any cute boys while you were away at war?”

Andrew turned his dead stare on Nicky, who looked back fearlessly from his safe position ensconced in Erik’s arms. “No,” Andrew said.

“Why not?” Nicky demanded. “You’re going to be single forever if you keep this up!”

“You should know better than to expect anything else,” Andrew said. “I’ve no interest in being trapped in a relationship, much less _marriage._ ”

“And men everywhere rejoice,” Neil said, raising his non-alcoholic cocktail in a toast, “that they should never have the misfortune of Andrew’s untender affections.”

Andrew shot him a distasteful glare. “I see no one has managed to tame you, either,” he said.

“What would make you say that?” Neil said. “I may be a perfectly unattainable prize, but that’s never stopped anyone from trying.”

(Much to his continued irritation. He _despised_ flirting.)

“Nobody with half an ounce of respect would allow their partner to walk around dressed like _that_ ,” Andrew said, making a dismissive gesture towards Neil. 

“Overalls are perfectly pragmatic and functional garments,” Neil said staunchly. “Unlike whatever nonsense you soldiers are wearing. Who exactly thought a _white_ uniform was a good idea? Or is it just so the nurses can more easily find your wounds when you inevitably trip on your sword?”

Renee looked up from where she’d been quietly conferring with Allison, a smile on her lips. “They are a little impractical,” she allowed. “But we only use them for formal parades. And showing off to our loved ones,” she added, glancing at Allison through her eyelashes.

“Then I don’t see why Andrew is wearing one, since he’s so firmly avowed against love,” Neil said.

“You’re one to talk,” Matt murmured, and Neil hastily refocussed, remembering a little late that Matt was still here, and probably still hopelessly mooning after Dan. (Who was Neil’s _sister_. Neil should not have to help set his best friend and his sister up together. The things he did for his family.) “Weren’t you just saying five minutes ago that you’d never be conned into marriage?” Matt asked.

“Very true,” Neil said, “the difference being that, unlike Andrew, if I wanted to, I could have my pick.”

“You’re an insufferable ass,” Dan observed. “And time has done you no favours on that front.”

“Matt, Dan is being mean to me. Defend my honour.”

Matt paused, looking slightly pained. Nobody ever said Neil’s matchmaking techniques were comfortable. “You are a wonder and a delight,” he said loyally.

“See,” Neil said smugly. “I already have at least one wrapped around my finger.”

Dan’s eyes rested on Matt for a short moment, discerning. “I’ll allow that possibly time has done you both some good,” she said. “But I’d like to spend the next hour in a hot bath surrounded by perfume, so I’ll be taking my leave.”

“Yes, please,” Neil said. “You smell like the wrong end of a horse.”

“Could you even find the wrong end of a horse?” Dan shot back.

“Yes,” Neil said. “It’s the end that smells like your armpits. Now away with you, Dad is going to want to hear all your nasty war stories tonight and I’d rather not have to hear _and_ smell them.”

Dan ruffled his hair fondly, shooting one last look at Matt before she departed. Neil heard a clatter in the entry hall, and a loud, strident voice, a second before Kevin came stumbling out the main doors.

“You’re back!” he said to the courtyard at large.

“A true master of observation,” Neil said, dropping back into his chair to resume his lounging. Kevin shot him a dirty look. He was still wearing a formal suit; university had corrupted him. Kevin was sort of his brother, but he hadn’t joined Wymack’s household until they were all teenagers, so it wasn’t the same as with Dan. He also liked giving long-winded lectures on historical battle tactics, which Neil was more than ready to foist onto anyone within range.

The others were, unfortunately, fully aware of that. There was a flurry of excuses and flirtations and then the two couples disappeared upstairs. Andrew glared at the swinging door before attending to the horses, fastidiously hitching them to the post above the water trough.

Matt buried his face in his hands. “My God, Neil, did you see her?” he moaned. “She’s so perfect.”

“Yes, yes,” Neil said. “Did you know that she snores? Very loudly.”

Matt glared at him over his shielding hands. “Is that supposed to change my mind?” he said.

“No, you’re a hopeless case,” Neil said. “And she was giving you that disgusting look she gets when she likes someone.”

“She was?” Matt said, at the same instant that Kevin said, “Ugh.”

“Obviously,” Neil said impatiently. “Did you see her face?”

“I don’t _know_ ,” Matt said. “She’s so strong and controlled all the time, she’s impossible to read. What if she’s not over the _incident_.”

“That was two years ago,” Neil said. “And you’re clean now. It’s completely different.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on Dan,” Kevin said.

“What?” Neil said. “You haven’t noticed him being a hopeless sop for the last three days? It’s pathetic. I am thoroughly disappointed in both of you.” He paused to consider. “All three of you, actually.”

“What have I done this time?” Andrew said.

“Nothing just now, but I’m sure you’ll manage something soon enough. I live in a perpetual state of disappointment with the state of general intelligence in this household.”

“If your insults are anything to measure it by, it’s a very dire state indeed.”

“Could you two lay off the flirting for _five seconds_ and help me?” Matt demanded.

“We are not flirting,” Neil said, affronted. “How could you possibly suggest that? You take that back right now.”

“You two are both such bastards, you’d deserve each other,” Kevin said.

“Even if I were able to look past Neil’s atrocious appearance, he’d have to do nothing but open his mouth to dissuade me,” Andrew said. “I wouldn’t stoop to that level even if I were desperate.” He glared at Neil. “And I’ll have you know I’m not wanting in company, when I desire it.”

“I’m sure the army has padded your purse sufficiently to make all but the proudest boys willing to look past your… _short_ comings.”

“Neil!” Matt said.

“Your problem is simple, Matt,” Neil said irascibly. “Ask her out. Even Andrew could figure that one out.”

“I can’t just _ask_ her,” Matt said. “What if she says no?”

“It’s a well-known fact that facing an opponent directly is a usually tactical mistake,” Kevin said.

“This isn’t an opponent, this is my _sister_.”

“The same concept applies,” Kevin argued.

“How do I approach her, then?” Matt asked.

“No,” Neil said. “You are not going to listen to Kevin over me!”

“And which one of us is actually in a relationship right now?” Kevin said.

“You sent your girlfriend a copy of your essay on grain movement in fourteenth-century warfare and its applicability to modern transportation!”

“And she said it was insightful and well-written, and added some very useful comments for revision.”

“He does have a point,” Matt said to Neil. “I mean, of the four of us, you don’t exactly have the best track record with romance.”

“He tried to romance her with _grain_ , Matt.”

“But if it worked—”

“What you need to do is gather information,” Kevin said. “The first rule of warfare is never to approach a situation without sufficient foreknowledge.”

“This is not warfare!”

“It’s an analogy, Neil,” Kevin said. “You have a perfect opportunity tonight. Allison has organized a masquerade ball for the soldiers’ homecoming. You can approach Dan in disguise: she won’t know it’s you, so there is no risk!”

“Lying to the woman you’re in love with seems a poor way to initiate a courtship,” Andrew observed. “Though I don’t pretend to understand the intricacies of heterosexual relationships.”

“I cannot believe I’m saying this,” Neil said. “But Andrew is right. There is no way this will work out in your favour.”

“You’re right,” Matt said. “I can’t approach her at the masquerade.”

“Of course I’m right,” Neil said. “Everyone should listen to me all the time about everything.”

“But _you_ could,” Matt said to Kevin.

“That is not what I meant!” Neil said vehemently.

“It could work,” Kevin said thoughtfully. “I am very romantic. I could pretend to be you and woo her so that you wouldn’t have to worry about initiating a relationship. It’s similar to the feint performed by the warlord Antonius Deinonychus in the fifteenth century—”

“I cannot believe this,” Neil said.

“You would do that for me?” Matt asked, wide-eyed.

Kevin nodded gravely. “You are my friend,” he declared. “And for the sake of your happiness, I will make Dan fall in love with you.”

“Are you really this stupid?” Andrew asked.

“Don’t be so negative!” Matt said. “This is a perfect plan! There is absolutely no way this could go wrong!”

Neil stared at his cocktail. A soggy mint leaf clung to the side of his glass, which felt like an apt metaphor for his mood. “I look forward to seeing your staked heads flanking the gates when Dan figures this out,” he said sulkily. “I am going to go to the kitchens and eat until I forget your impending death.”

“Neil, listen—”

Matt chased Neil through the door, protesting all the while, leaving Andrew and Kevin facing each other across the courtyard.

“I’m glad to see you’re still endeavouring to prove that a university education doesn’t require intelligence,” Andrew said.

“It’s a valid plan,” Kevin said. “In fact, I think you would find Antonius’ stratagems rather appealing—he never directly attacked, but came at his enemy from a direction they didn’t anticipate—”

“Not listening,” Andrew said, heading in through the front door.

“Of course, he did die while hiding in a converted war carriage when the axle got caught in his robe and strangled him…” Kevin continued, following Andrew through the doors.

“I don’t care!” Andrew shouted, dropping the door in Kevin’s face.

After a brief flurry of swears, Kevin too vanished from the courtyard. The wind whistled through the empty space, carrying the faint scent of nectar and a cloud of golden pollen. The horses’ tails swished away a couple buzzing flies as they sated themselves on water.

The warm tableau shattered as Riko strode out of the side door, Jean following anxiously at his heels. Riko’s coat tails fluttered in the breeze, making one of the horses prance, hooves clipping at the dirt. “Did you hear that, Jean?”

“Yes, my lord,” Jean said, rubbing a hand up the horse’s forehead to calm it. He scratched gently into the whorl of fur between its eyes. He’d have to ensure that someone sent for a groom soon; these horses had travelled too hard to be left out in the sun long.

“This is a perfect opportunity,” Riko said, striding back and forth and clipping his formal cane against the ground. “Kevin’s idiot scheme is close to breaking as it is; it will take but a slight push to shatter it completely.”

“Riko,” Jean said.

“What?” Riko demanded.

Jean grimaced, looking down and away. “Is that really wise? Kevin has only recently allowed you back in his life—”

“Stripped of all my old authority! Oh yes, the great _Kevin_ , who so magnanimously let his disgraced brother continue hanging on—all my powers stripped away, as helpless as a babe in arms, but let’s everyone fawn over dear, sweet Kevin, the apple of his father’s eye—”

“And he could strip even that away, if he catches you scheming,” Jean said desperately.

Riko scoffed. “Kevin has a trusting nature. He’ll never suspect me.”

“My lord—”

“Don’t patronize me!” Riko thundered. “Why should they get to be happy, when I have lost every title I held before my _brother_ disgraced me so that he could consort with the lowborn _scum_ he calls his family. I offered him the world and he turned up his nose at me. It’s time enough that he tastes a little of his own medicine, I think.”

Jean bit his cheek, hard. “My lord, I cannot aid you in this. If you are found out—”

“You cannot? You _cannot_? Would you rather I sent the tax collector after your family, then? Have you forgotten what your family owes me?”

“Of course not, my lord, but this could ruin us both.”

Riko grabbed Jean by the coat, shaking him. The horse snorted, throwing its head back in alarm. “You will obey me if you ever want to see your beloved sisters again,” he hissed. “Or I will send your entire family into the deepest pits imaginable, and you to slave away until your flesh rots away and you perish like the vermin you are.”

Jean flinched. “I’m sorry, my lord,” he gasped. “I meant no offence. I will serve.”

Riko shook him once more. “Of course you will,” he said. “You know your place.”

Jean squeezed his eyes shut, but Riko didn’t strike him—he didn’t dare, not when they were in a public space. Loathing rose in Jean’s chest. If it weren’t for his sisters, he’d have fled this life already; Riko had been defanged years ago. No one had thought to forgive the debts of a petty servant boy, however.

Riko shoved him back against the water trough and straightened up, lifting his chin haughtily. “They will learn what my shame tasted like before all this is through. I shall not be taken for a fool again.”

“Yes, my lord,” Jean murmured, and wondered how much longer he could continue like this.


	2. Act 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im not sure why im surprised that a fic based on a play would be so dialogue heavy, but like…damn. She dialogue heavy. 
> 
> shoutout to [@thebashfulpoet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBashfulPoet/pseuds/TheBashfulPoet) for beta-ing for me, youre a lifesaver <3

The splashing of the fountain in the centre of the courtyard was nearly drowned out by the sound of fiddlers inside the ballroom. Andrew readjusted his mask; it was a full-faced demon, with gold engraved on stark black, fanning out above his head. His boots lent him a full extra two inches of height. The heels were excellent and sturdy for kicking. They certainly had nothing to do with the insults Neil had been slinging this afternoon.

Speaking of; Neil stood in the entrance holding court with a few of Wymack’s other strays, wearing a grey suit with a gaudy orange tie loose about his neck. His fox mask gave him two pointed ears, but there was no mistaking him. The scars on his cheeks were pink and shimmery in the torchlight.

He’d had the scars as long as Andrew had known him, though when Andrew and his family had first come to Wymack’s household they’d been angry and fresh wounds. Gifts from an unpleasant father who had tracked him down after nearly a dozen years in Wymack’s care. It might have been enough to trigger Andrew’s protective instincts, if Neil wasn’t so _bloody_ obnoxious.

The suit looked nice on him, though. Allison must have dressed him; he’d never wear anything fitted unless forced. It wasn’t particularly revealing, of course, though Andrew knew why that was as well. He’d been around long enough to know how far the scars went.

Neil’s hand went to his tie, yanking on it to loosen it a little more, grinning wickedly at Allison and Renee. Andrew had to bite the inside of his cheek, hard. The line of Neil’s throat lifted as he spoke, the words too distant to overhear.

“Andrew, is that you?” Nicky asked.

It took a lifetime’s worth of self-control not to jump like a startled cat as Nicky materialized at his shoulder. Instead, Andrew turned his head slowly to glare at him, eyes cold and bored as if he hadn’t just been fantasizing about unbuttoning Neil’s suit coat one glittering button at a time.

So he was a little pent-up. It was natural; life on the move hadn’t been conducive to finding suitable bedmates. His standards were just a shade too strict for casual. And Neil was physically appealing; he was allowed to admire that, even if he’d never act on it. 

“What do you want, Nicky?”

“Have you seen Aaron?” Nicky asked, blissfully oblivious to Andrew’s thoughts.

“I’m not his keeper,” Andrew said, turning away. He and Aaron had dealt with that particular bit of foolishness years ago.

Nicky made a skeptical face. His own mask was a feathery flamingo-pink. “Don’t pretend you aren’t watching him like a hawk,” he said. “Deal or no deal—”

“I’m going to get a drink,” Andrew said, striding through the nearest door without a second glance. Aaron was with that harlot he called a girlfriend; Andrew needed nothing to do with that.

“You’ll need more than one to deal with that sour disposition,” Nicky called after him. “You’ll never get a husband with that kind of behaviour!”

All the alcohol in the world wouldn’t mitigate the aggravation of his family. He pushed past Neil’s small crowd at the door and entered the ballroom. A shimmering candlelit chandelier sent shadows rippling across the marble floor. Wymack’s fox coat of arms hung on several pillars. The room was full of townspeople, lords and ladies alike. Hypocrites, the lot of them. They’d despised Wymack and his house of troubled youths for years before enough of them had made good names for themselves. Since then, the townspeople pretended like they’d believed in Wymack all along.

That was fine with Andrew; there was only one person from the town he cared to meet. Roland would never miss a party, especially not one hosted by someone as generous with his drinks as Wymack.

He picked up a glass of whiskey from the bar and began making slow circles of the dance floor, eyes keen. He spotted Dan lounging in her uniform on a set of couches, looking on Kevin—a full mask hiding his face—with bemused indulgence.

Nicky and Erik had taken to the dance floor, as had Wymack and his wife, Abigail. Dresses and suits flashed under the lights. Andrew wiped a bead of sweat from the back of his neck and headed back towards the door. Still no sign of Roland.

The outside air was humid, but cool, ruffling through Andrew’s hair. He ducked to the side and nearly collided with Neil.

“Steady there,” Neil said, deftly catching Andrew’s drink before it could go flying. “I see the drink is already flowing freely.”

A defensive response rose to his lips, but Renee beat him to it with a gentle, “Neil.”

Neil sighed elaborately. “Where are my manners? Welcome to my father’s house, I extend my most sincere hospitality. Happy, Renee?”

Andrew froze. Neil lounged against a pillar, somehow even more untidy than he’d been a few minutes earlier, and very clearly not recognizing Andrew. Allison and Renee stood just beyond him, colourful drinks in crystal goblets balanced in their hands. Neil’s attention left Andrew almost as quickly as it had arrived, bored of entertaining strangers.

Renee’s head tilted as she studied him for a moment before the spark of recognition lit in her eyes. “I’m always happy to greet friends,” she said.

“Where do you find such generosity for the world?” Neil asked. “I find my share runs dry after five minutes at one of these events.”

“That’s what the wine is for,” Allison said.

Renee pursed her lips, though Andrew could see the amusement in how she couldn’t quite keep down a smile. “We are celebrating a successful campaign,” she said. “Your irreverence is wholly inappropriate.”

“Which is why you are hiding out here with us, rather than soaking in the celebration inside,” Neil observed.

Renee’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “I am perhaps not as reverent as I should be,” she admitted.

“I am glad you’re not dead,” Neil said. “I just don’t see why we should have to share that celebration with the rabble.” He gestured to Andrew as if to illustrate his point. “No offence to yourself, of course,” he added, insincerely.

“I’m sure you’re all pleased to have your soldiers back home,” Andrew said stiffly. Renee hid a sparkling laugh behind her wine glass. He glared at her.

“Well, three out of four isn’t bad,” Neil said. “But I suppose any lot must contain its bad apples. Honestly, Renee, you couldn’t have left Andrew in some distant kingdom? To spare us the odour, if nothing else.”

“He’s not so bad,” Renee said, eyelashes lowered as she watched Andrew with a conniving tilt to her mouth. Meddling hag. “I think perhaps you vilify him too much.”

“Certainly, he is not so bad as a villain, but is that the bar by which we measure a man? Anyone would tire of such a dreary character, hanging his boredom out like a flag and pretending it is substitute enough for personality. If he finds us so tiresome, then let him depart and not return! Why should he so repeatedly descend upon us only to disparage our company?”

“Perhaps you mistake his intentions,” Andrew said.

“There’s no mistaking him,” Allison said. “Only Renee could find pleasure in such a man’s company, and that because she is too soft.”

“And no mistaking his appearance, either,” Neil said, lips devilish. “Why, he’s less endowed of height even than yourself.”

Andrew stiffened. The spark of mischief in Neil’s eyes danced behind his mask. Damn him. Had he guessed?

Neil’s smirk gave nothing away.

“You do him injustice,” Renee said. “I think perhaps you’d do well to turn that critical eye towards a mirror, betimes.”

“Do you imply that I am too little, sweet Renee?” Neil said. “Why, you dishonour me! Meet me at the gates at dawn!”

Allison raised a glossy eyebrow and relieved him of the cocktail he was waving precariously in the air. “If you’re challenging Renee to duel, you’ve had too much,” she said. “You wouldn’t even have a chance to raise your sword.”

“And my honour, once again, goes undefended,” Neil said, smiling fondly at Renee and Allison. “But you’ll have to pardon me, I see a maudlin fool about to make an ass of himself. Duty calls.”

Neil kissed Allison’s hand ostentatiously and gave Renee a brief bow before hurrying inside. The midsummer heat was fading outside into a mild evening breeze, but inside it was growing hot from torches and dancing bodies. A wry smile tugged at his lips. Contrary to Allison’s assertion, his cocktail had contained nothing but juice. Alcohol drew out the worst memories in him, so he generally avoided it.

He didn’t mind letting her assume, though. It was a small price to pay for the laughter of his friends.

He rounded the dancefloor, finding his objective lurking beside a marble pillar. Matt had put on a pin-striped suit for the ball, a mime’s mask dangling from his fingers. Kevin wore the costume that Matt had been planning on using today, with the wolf’s mask disguising his face. He’d disappeared nearly an hour previously with Dan.

“I’m surprised we’ve seen no blood, yet,” Neil said conversationally.

Matt jumped, swearing. “Neil! Where did you come from?”

“My mother, presumably, God rest her soul,” Neil said. “Why do you look like a kicked puppy?”

Matt pinched his eyes shut. “I’m a fool.”

“Nobody is contesting that. But before I presume, are we referring to your previous idiocy, or is there a new and exciting one I should know about?”

Matt mumbled something indistinct.

“What’s that?” Neil said. “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your self-pity.”

Matt’s shoulders slumped even lower. “Kevin is in love with Dan.”

The music rose to a crescendo behind them. Neil stared at Matt for a long moment, waiting for a punchline.

“I heard it from one of the party guests,” Matt said morosely. “Apparently Kevin was planning on proposing tonight. He never wanted to help me, he only needed to keep me out of the way—”

“Forgive me for interrupting,” Neil said, “but that is the _stupidest_ thing I’ve heard you say all day, and _that_ is saying something.”

Fire exploded into Matt’s eyes. “You didn’t hear him,” Matt hissed. “The way he said it, Kevin’s been planning this for weeks.”

“Kevin is our _brother!_ ”

“Not by blood,” Matt retorted, slouching over the drinks table like a cut marionette. “Oh, Neil, what do I do? I can’t watch her marry him—I’ll go, I should leave now, before they make the announcement, it’s the only way—”

“Easy, now,” Neil said, alarmed. “No need to go to such extreme lengths. I’m sure it’s a simple misunderstanding.”

“Oh, God, Neil hide me!” Matt said, trying to conceal his massive frame behind Neil. He turned to give him an exasperated look, and Matt clutched at his suit harder, pulling him in front of him like a shield. “They’re coming!”

“Matt,” Neil said, trying to dislodge him. “Matt, you are being absurd. Stop it, they’re going to—Hello, father!”

Matt gulped audibly, straightening up and meeting David Wymack’s strong gaze. Dan stood behind him, her dark face dignified and unreadable. Neil tried to catch her eye, but her gaze was fixed on Matt. A step behind her, Kevin stood unmasked. Neil wondered how long the charade had lasted. Less than a minute, he’d bet.

“Neil,” Wymack said in greeting. “Gotten into any trouble yet?”

“Don’t look at me,” Neil said. “The others have accomplished more than enough mischief tonight without my help. If anything, I’ve been the sole voice of reason.”

“Isn’t that a terrifying thought,” Wymack grunted, turning his glare on Matt. “Matthew Donovan Boyd.”

“Yes, my lord,” Matt squeaked.

“Since when have we reverted back to titles, boy? Look me in the eye.”

The deep brown of Matt’s cheeks flushed with heat. “Sorry.”

“Enough apologies,” Wymack said. “I’m told you seek my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Matt’s eyes went wide as saucers. His hands clenched on the hem of his suit coat, tugging at the stitches like he was trying to undo them. “I—” he began, stopped. Kevin gave him a grin and a thumbs up from behind Dan. Neil wrestled down the urge to roll his eyes.

Matt straightened, composing his expression. “Yes,” he said simply. “If she’ll have me.”

“Hmph,” Wymack said, still glaring at him. “Well, it sounds like she’s amiable enough to it. Have at ‘er.”

“ _Have at her?_ ” Dan demanded. “You’re giving us your blessing, and that’s all you have to say?”

“It’s not like I could stop you even if I wanted to,” Wymack grumbled. Neil recognized that grouchy tone as his _emotional-and-not-sure-how-to-handle-it_ voice. “Lord knows none of you lot have listened to me about anything for years.”

“You are insufferable,” Dan said. “I’m telling mother about this.”

“Don’t you threaten me,” Wymack said. “Now get on with it.”

Matt swayed on the spot, eyes glassy with shock. Dan shoved her father aside impatiently, striding up to Matt and tipping her head back to meet his gaze. Wymack shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing around in discomfort before retreating to the buffet table, just out of earshot.

Matt wet his lips. “Do you…do you really want to?”

“I always did,” Dan said, taking his hand. “I was only waiting for you to be ready.”

“I…” Matt trailed off. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then kiss her, you fool,” Allison called. Neil jumped in surprise as he spotted her and Renee eavesdropping nearby, Nicky and his husband lurking behind them. They’d shaken the company of the mysterious demon man from earlier.

Matt and Dan were too busy gazing lovelorn into each other’s eyes to be startled. “Can I?” Matt asked.

Dan responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, hauling him down to meet her. Matt swept her up in his arms, lifting her clear off her feet.

Neil mimed gagging behind them.

Nicky wolf-whistled as Matt placed Dan carefully back down, smiling uncontrollably. A smattering of applause broke out, spreading across the hall like a wave.

“So,” Matt said. “Um. When do you want to get married?”

Dan lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “Why wait? The midsummer festival approaches. We could hold the ceremony the following day.”

“A week?” Nicky squawked. “You can’t organize a wedding in a week!”

“Renee can officiate,” Dan said. “I mean—could you, Renee?”

“Of course,” she said, smiling. “Anything for such dear friends.”

“Then it’s settled,” Dan said. “The day after midsummer.”

“Hear, hear,” Allison said, raising a glass. The others quickly followed suit, toasting the upcoming nuptials.

“Matt,” Neil said, popping up beside them. “Quick question.”

“Hm?” Matt said, not taking his eyes off of Dan.

“This guest you spoke to earlier? What did they look like?”

“Um. A raven mask, I think. Why?”

“Just curious. Carry on. It’s not like you’re embarrassing me in front of the entire local court or anything.”

“Neil, dear,” Dan said, resting her cheek against Matt’s chest and giving Neil a half-smile. “For once in your life—”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be off. Congratulations, and so on and such forth.”

Dan made a shooing gesture and Neil complied readily, slipping behind the pillars and leaving the others to their celebration. If anyone had been watching, they might have seen him disappear, his presence shrinking as his posture slumped, his mask tugged down lower over his face as he slid through the crowd with shocking anonymity.

Nobody was watching, however, so this remarkable transformation went unremarked.

“I can’t believe that boy,” Allison said. “His own sister’s engagement, and he can’t even put aside his airs for five minutes to congratulate her.”

“He’ll never warm up to romance until he’s experienced it himself,” Nicky said.

“I hesitate to judge,” Renee said. “But I do feel he would benefit from…partnership, of a sort.”

“Don’t be delicate, Renee,” Allison said. “The man needs to get laid. Perhaps that might dislodge the stick up his rear.”

Matt blinked, his gaze breaking away from Dan’s like waking from a dream. A slight frown marred his lovestruck expression. “Don’t you think perhaps you’re being a little harsh?”

“My dear man, I’ll forgive you only because your mind is addled with romance at the moment,” Nicky said. “Neil is insufferable.”

“He’s not the worst,” Erik pointed out. “Your cousin surely wins that prize.”

“True, but Neil is too pretty to be alone like this. Honestly, it’s quite nearly criminal that a man should have such perfect lips and never put them to use.”

“Should I be wary of Neil taking my place?” Erik said, amused.

Nicky’s answering smile was radiant. “Never, darling. Just stating a fact.”

Dan sighed, resting her cheek against Matt’s chest. “My brother does not owe any of you romance,” she said. “Even as spectators.”

“Love is a spectator sport,” Allison drawled, sipping from her cocktail. “After all, why else would we be gathered here now?”

“To share in our happy moment?”

“For the entertainment, my dear.”

“Allison,” Renee said reprovingly, and Allison had the decency to look a mite chagrined as her betrothed laid a gentle hand across her arm. It was not enough to mitigate her reaction when Nicky brightened a second later.

“Could you imagine if Neil and Andrew got together?”

Allison’s smile grew wicked. “Oh Nicky, you mad genius. You may have finally solved our problem.”

“Don’t blaspheme,” Erik said. “All the gods in all the pantheons could barely move _one_ of those two into a relationship. The two together? The sun would sooner rise in the West.”

“It…might not be so implausible,” Kevin said hesitantly.

Allison pounced. Kevin had, for a long time, been more attached to Andrew’s group than his own blood family; the others trusted his word on Andrew more than anyone save perhaps Renee. “Oh? Has even the monster finally fallen prey to those dazzling blue eyes?”

“Don’t call him that,” Renee said.

“Has he said anything to _you_?” Nicky asked.

Renee paused for the barest second. “No.”

“That was not terribly confident, my love,” Allison said.

Renee looked conflicted. “He has said nothing to me of Neil, but…” She bit her cheek. “Often with Andrew what goes unsaid is more important than what is said.”

“So there is potential?”

“I could say nothing with confidence. Only that I could not confidently say no, either.”

“Please,” Matt said. “Just—”

“I propose a wager,” Allison said, raising her glass and cutting him off. “Twenty silver coins that I can engineer a union between Andrew and Neil before Matt and Dan are wed. Any takers?”

“Allison, really—” Matt said, but it was too late; none of Wymack’s strange brood could resist a contest.

“I’ll raise you thirty,” Nicky said. “A week is too quick. I say it takes a month, at least.”

“A month,” Erik scoffed. “You will be waiting till you’re old and wrinkled before those two miscreants ally together.”

Nicky patted him on the arm, smiling at him somewhat patronizingly. “You think too little of my cousin, dear husband.”

Erik hmphed, though he didn’t deny it. He’d always been a little touchy of the way the twins treated Nicky.

“Anyone else?” Allison said, then raised a sharp finger. “Remember that I will need aid in this endeavour, and I will accept no sabotage, even from those who bet against me.” 

“I’m with Nicky,” Dan said, “though I’m willing to help.” Her eyes flashed with amusement. “Only if Renee approves, of course.”

All eyes turned to Renee. She touched her hand to her mouth, eyebrows rumpled in thought. Despite the carnival atmosphere, everyone knew that the game would end before it began without Renee’s approval.

“I will assist,” she said. “On one condition: that if I suspect you have anything less than Neil and Andrew’s best interests at heart, the wager is absolved.”

“We won’t push them into something they don’t want,” Allison said. “Lord knows I doubt we could if we tried. We’ll merely…accelerate the timeline.”

“You are a rotten liar, my love,” Renee said, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. Even she couldn’t quite resist a little mischief.

Allison raised her glass in a toast. “Then let the game begin!”

* * *

The summer sun sparkled against dew-wet grass as Matt and Neil jogged around the grounds. Matt squinted at Neil with bleary eyes as he turned towards the sparring grounds, chatting as if he was not at all out of breath. “There were very few people there last night that I couldn’t identify,” Neil said, hair shining bright as a copper penny in the morning light. “And none wore a raven mask. You are _certain_ that the guest you spoke to had one?”

“I suppose it could have been a crow,” Matt said dubiously. “It was black and feathery.”

“Then it comes to the process of elimination,” Neil said. “And I can only think of a handful that would usually attend such an event that I didn’t see there last night.”

Matt rubbed his forehead. They’d been up late into the night drinking and—yes—scheming. Even he had caved eventually. “You don’t—” he hesitated. “You don’t think it could have been Andrew, do you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Neil said. “Andrew wouldn’t try to sabotage your marriage.”

“Oh,” Matt said, relieved. “Good.”

Neil shot him a suspicious sideways look. “What do you mean, good?”

“Nothing, nothing. You just usually blame him for everything.”

Neil huffed. “Andrew is a nuisance, but he’s not malicious. No, the only other person I can think of is Prince Riko.”

Any thought of the wager flew from Matt’s mind. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t see him there last night, though he was certainly in attendance. And you know what the courts used to call him—”

“The Raven Prince,” Matt murmured. “But why would _he_ care about our marriage?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” Neil said. “I never trusted him, or his weaselly manservant.”

“You have always been a bit paranoid.”

“Someone has to be, because Kevin certainly isn’t.”

“Be gentle with him,” Matt said. “I like Riko as little as you, but they were brothers for many years. Can you imagine cutting Dan completely from your life?”

“Dan was never caught torturing prisoners for sport,” Neil retorted. “You can’t deny Riko is the most suspicious character in the court.”

“True,” Matt said. They were nearing the sparring grounds, and Neil dropped out of his jog to a walk, wiping sweat from his forehead. Matt had been teaching Neil boxing for several years, and they had a longstanding habit of meeting for training each morning. With the beginnings of a wicked hangover brewing in the back of his skull, Matt regretted not calling it off this morning.

“Oh, good,” Neil said. “Dan and Renee are here. You can nurse your sorry state in company.”

Perhaps Matt was not hiding his suffering as well as he’d hoped.

They rounded the entry into a wide courtyard. A few sparring circles were roped off in the middle, sawdust softening the footing and sending up clouds of dust wherever people moved, swirling like mist. There was a canvas roof that could be pulled across for when weather threatened, but it was open to the sky at the moment.

“Rest a moment,” Neil said. “I’ll run and fetch the gloves.”

He slipped along the side of the courtyard, tipping a hand toward Renee and Dan in greeting. The two women stood by the side of the sparring ring, dressed today not in their formal attire but in simple tunic and trousers, as was their habit.

The memory of last night blindsided Matt yet again. A dopey grin rose on his face. He was getting _married._ To _Dan_. He could still scarcely believe his luck. They’d spent so much time last night caught up in Allison’s intrigues that they hadn’t the time to privately speak of their betrothal.

Dan waited until Neil vanished around the corner to hurry towards him. Matt’s heart leapt in his throat. They could steal off, spend a few minutes re-learning what it was like to be a pair. It was hardly a new arrangement—they’d been together, all told, for nearly three years before Dan had left Matt to join the army, saying that she loved him but couldn’t heal him if he wouldn’t take the first step.

It had taken him nearly a year, and Andrew’s intervention, to knock his bad habits for good. And now—now—

“You have to go,” Dan hissed.

“What?”

“The plan! Allison’s plan!”

Matt blinked at her, uncomprehending. She was beautiful in the morning sunlight, her dark skin highlighted in bronze.

“Matthew!”

“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry. I forgot.”

“You have to lure Neil away,” Dan said. “Tell him—oh, tell him you’re feeling ill and need to go to the kitchens.”

“Yes. I can do that,” Matt said, trying not to sound disappointed.

Dan turned to go, then paused, shooting him a small smile over her shoulder. “Can I call on you later?”

“Of course,” he said, the warmth in her gaze buoying him as quickly as he’d fallen. “You need only say the word and I’ll be there.”

“I know,” she said, and was back at Renee’s side before Neil reappeared at Matt’s elbow. He had two pairs of leather boxing gloves draped over one arm, sparring caps in the other to protect their heads.

“Neil,” Matt began.

“If you are about to spout another ode to my sister’s beauty, please refrain. I’ve heard enough tripe for one lifetime, let alone one week.”

“Why are you such a menace?” Matt asked, a fond smile pulling at his lips.

“I believe it’s called a defence mechanism,” Neil said. “Gloves?”

A tiny pang of guilt went through Matt at his agreed-upon role in the scheme. Neil would forgive him, if it worked out. Probably. “Not today, Neil,” he said. “I might be sick if I move too quickly. Perhaps we can take a walk of the grounds instead?”

“And you waited until _after_ I fetched everything to tell me,” Neil complained. “Fine, fine. I’ll return them. I keep telling everyone, romance makes you soft…”

They left a stir of sawdust in their wake as Neil led Matt out the other exit, past the lockers where they stored the gear. Dan watched them go, biting down on a smile. Her fool brother was a loyal friend, if not a particularly tactful one.

“How should we do this?” she asked Renee.

“Hush,” Renee said, turning to one of the tall cabinets along the wall. “Wymack asked us to inspect the weapons.”

“Renee—”

“I spotted Andrew coming down the green a moment ago.”

Dan jumped to the cabinet, yanking it open and rustling about in it with more noise than was strictly necessary. A tingle of excitement raced through her. She hadn’t done something so foolish in years.

“Follow my lead,” Renee murmured, and Dan had only a moment to marvel at how naturally she took to deception before Renee raised her voice just a touch.

“I can scarcely believe it,” Renee said, pulling out one of the practice swords, running her hands along its length to check for flaws. “Of all the people he could choose, Neil fell in love with Andrew?”

Dan heard a slight scuffle in the hallway and had to resist the urge to glance backwards. She nodded, her motions jerky and exaggerated. Renee’s face pinched with a repressed smile. “I was as shocked to hear it as you are,” Dan said loudly. “But I don’t know why I ever would have expected Neil’s heart to be anything other than difficult.”

“That is true,” Renee said, replacing the practice sword and closing the cabinet. “I still find it hard to believe. He admitted it to you? In words?”

“Matt says he heard it from Neil’s lips personally. That poor boy. For his heart to settle on the one person that he can’t have—"

“Has he spoken to Andrew about it?”

Dan scoffed; it didn’t even take much acting. “Have you met my brother?”

They strode towards the next cabinet and Dan caught sight of a shadow lunging behind a bunch of target dummies, sending up a cloud of sawdust.

“Perhaps it’s for the best,” Renee said solemnly. “Andrew is so adamantly against relationships. I’d hate to see Neil’s heart broken on him.”

“I fear the heartbreak is inevitable,” Dan said. “Neil will never submit to being just another one of Andrew’s conquests. His emotions are many things, but casual is not one of them.”

“Andrew is too afraid of commitment to ever realize his luck,” Renee said, shaking her head.

“And Neil too afraid of rejection to ever confess his feelings. He’d die of mortification before admitting to having fallen under the sway of the very thing he’s ridiculed so many for.”

They rifled through another cabinet, trying to ignore the rustling of a figure crawling behind the pot of grease they used for storing weapons so they didn’t rust. “If only Andrew could be swayed, it would almost be a good match,” Renee said. “But I suppose it’s not to be.”

“It explains Neil’s belligerence, at least. He has always been better at masking his pain than expressing it.”

“With the way Neil behaves, it would take a miracle for Andrew to divine his true feelings.”

A raucous clang echoed through the chamber. Dan had to shove her hand in her mouth to stop herself from laughing. A cat yowled in displeasure and shot out from under a suit of armour that swayed precariously in the nonexistent wind.

Renee bent down and scooped up the disgruntled feline, running her hand along its bristling back. “Oh, little King is it? Did you try to knock over Wymack’s armour? You naughty thing.”

Laughter frothed in Dan’s stomach, nearly overflowing. She was not going to be able to keep up this ruse much longer. “Well, that’s all the inspections completed,” she said. “Is it still worth waiting on Andrew for training?”

“He likely spent the night in town with one of his regulars,” Renee said. It was a blatant falsehood; they’d both ridden with Andrew long enough to know he never stayed the night.

“We can afford one morning's rest, I think,” Dan said. “To the kitchens? I expect Cook will be having conniptions, what with the upcoming wedding.”

Renee hid a smile as she deposited the slightly mollified cat back on the ground. “It would only be right that we offer our aid,” she said.

“You just want a few of Cook’s butter tarts,” Dan teased, leading Renee out of the sparring grounds.

“A woman can’t have two intentions?” Renee said primly. A slight breeze gusted through the corridor behind them, blowing sawdust into the air above the practice grounds.

For a few heartbeats, the room echoed with nothing but fading footsteps. The little orange cat leapt up onto a small bale of hay—used for target practice—and tucked her chin, grooming the rumpled fur on her chest.

The suit of armour creaked ominously and Andrew toppled out from behind it, landing on his back in the dust. His eyes fixed blankly on the brightening sky above.

 _Neil_.

He almost said the name out loud and bit it back at the last moment, as if by speaking it he might break the illusion. _Neil_.

They must be mistaken. Neil wouldn’t—Neil didn’t—

The cat leapt from her post on the bale and Andrew jumped, rolling to his feet. Woodchips clung to his hands and clothing where he’d brushed up against the grease pot. He glared down at the cat. She watched him back with lazy, unblinking eyes.

Andrew’s gaze dropped to his hands. He tried to wipe the grease off them but only succeeded in smearing it all over his trousers. He stared at the mess in disbelief. “Why?” he asked nobody in particular. “Why would he want… _me_?”

The cat shook out a paw and licked it delicately.

Andrew scowled, kicking sawdust at her. She darted backwards, launching up one of the practice dummies and onto the cabinet behind. Her baleful yellow gaze shone down on him from above, simmering with reproach.

It was impossible. He went to rake his hands through his hair and stopped just in time.

It was ridiculous. Wasn’t it? It had to be. Matt was hardly the most discerning person. He must have misheard.

Andrew heard all the insults Neil had slung at him in the last day echo in his head. Trivialities, about his height or his demeanour, needling but not life-threatening. Neil was hardly known for his restraint. Andrew had seen him eviscerate people with only words, pinpointing weaknesses with the unerring instinct of an expert marksman.

Andrew had always flattered himself that he was well-guarded enough that Neil couldn’t find his actual weak points. But which was more likely? They were both Foxes; they knew there were wounds too deep to prod at safely.

His throat felt tight and rough. He raised a hand to his collar, the unfamiliar feeling squeezing his chest. If Neil knew—if he knew, and skirted them anyway—

Neil’s face conjured in his mind like a spell. Andrew’s memory had never failed him yet, but the Neil in his memory was impossibly radiant, so bright and sharp that Andrew could cut himself on him.

“What are you doing?”

The bubble popped as resoundingly as a dropping guillotine. Andrew startled, flinching back like he was ready to fight.

Neil raised a slow eyebrow, his gaze raking over Andrew’s bedraggled figure. “Took a tumble?” he asked.

Words refused to form on Andrew’s lips. He stared at Neil like he’d just seen a vision. He wasn’t wearing his usual overalls today, though his loose clothing gave nothing away. His hair was rumpled like it had been windblown and only partially tamed by fingers combing through it. He was, somehow, even more beautiful than Andrew remembered.

“Nothing to say?” Neil said. “How tedious. I’ve been sent to inform you that breakfast is served. Consider yourself informed.”

Air wasn’t reaching Andrew’s chest properly. He felt light-headed and almost giddy. _Giddy_ , like a child at a festival. Andrew Minyard did not feel giddy.

“Sent, were you?” he said, hoping his voice sounded half so even as Neil’s did. “I’d have thought you’d jump at the opportunity to make sport of me.”

Neil raised his eyes to the sky like he was imploring the heavens for strength. “It looks like you little need my help in that.”

Andrew’s heart leapt in his chest. He didn’t know how he’d been fooled before. He watched Neil’s expression go disdainful and cold and pleasure squirmed in his gut. Had his belligerence always been so obviously over-done? Andrew couldn’t recall.

“I’m sorry you had to trouble yourself on my account,” he said, a secret smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Neil frowned at him for a moment. This wasn’t how he’d expected this conversation to go. Andrew was not following the usual script. “No trouble at all,” Neil said finally, turning to go, and paused. “You might want to change,” he added, offhand. “Though far be it from me to forbid another from making a fool of himself.”

He was so mean. Andrew found it terribly attractive. “Whatever would you do without our humiliation to entertain you?”

“Die of boredom, I’m sure,” Neil said, and sailed out of the courtyard as abruptly as he’d come.

“No trouble at all,” Andrew echoed, unable to control the wild excitement flooding through him. Of course it hadn’t been; now that he knew what it hid, Neil’s show of indifference was painfully transparent. How long had he lurked about Andrew, masking his interest under slinging barbs? How long had Andrew _missed it_?

 _He’d never submit to just being one of Andrew’s conquests_ , Dan had said.

Well, if she thought so little of him, then damn her. He wouldn’t leave Neil’s interest unrequited. Even he couldn’t be so heartless. He’d march right up to Neil and—

He glanced down at himself. There was still grease stains across his pants, and sawdust clinging to every fold and stitch of his clothing.

Well. Perhaps _after_ he took a bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to neil for being the only idiot in this story paying attention to the goddamn PLOT smh


	3. Act 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which neil is scammed into having feelings
> 
> warnings for negativity surrounding past/current addiction!

Neil’s footfalls sank into the soft grass as he dropped out of a jog. He wiped sweat from his forehead, tipping his head back to soak in the afternoon sun. Salt was already drying on his skin like a fine grit. 

The household had been in an absolute uproar for the last three days. Neil had stuck it out for several hours this morning, but the noise had grated and grated on him till he was as raw as a plucked chicken, and finally he’d taken off for the hills. There were dozens of paths up there, winding through the low mountains, and Neil knew all of them. 

He turned into the gardens, as was his habit after his runs, pacing slowly to let his heart come down from its frantic pace. The flowers were in full bloom, regimented rows of colour pruned to perfection by an overzealous gardener. He could hear voices down by the fountain and he trailed his fingers along the stone wall of one of the flowerbeds, following the sound of conversation. 

Matt’s spiky hair rose above the hedges, bobbing as if he was talking animatedly. Neil debated dodging him and continuing down to the pond, but, he supposed, Matt could probably use the emotional support right now. Matt had _so many_ emotions. It was exhausting. Neil didn’t know how he did it. And he still hadn’t solved the puzzle of Riko’s strange lies at the masquerade ball; everyone else seemed to have forgotten the incident entirely, since it had come to naught. 

He rounded the corner to the courtyard with the fountain just in time to catch the tail end of what Matt was saying.

“What do you _mean_ he’s in love with Neil?”

Matt was standing beside Nicky by the fountain, facing away from the entrance, which was a small blessing, because his words made Neil freeze like a startled deer. 

“I _know_ ,” Nicky said. “Apparently he has been forever.”

“But why?” Matt asked. “Neil is terrible to him.”

Neil’s stomach lurched. He was definitely not supposed to be overhearing _this_ conversation. He made a grab for his wits, missed, and lunged back behind the shielding hedge, burying himself into a small nook with a stone frog statue. 

“It makes no sense to me either,” Nicky said. “I feel awful. All those things I said to him about finding love must have sounded so heartless when he was already hopelessly devoted to a man who doesn’t love him back.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but I almost feel bad for him.”

“God, don’t tell him that. Andrew would never forgive you if he found out you pitied him.”

Neil's stomach did a strange maneuver that was halfway between a flip and a hard fall off of a horse. _Andrew?_

“He would gut me like a fish,” Matt said ruefully. “If only Neil realized what he was missing. Andrew is so…you know…”

“Loyal!” Nicky jumped in. “And he’s honest, near to a fault.”

“Has he confessed his feelings to Neil?”

“What’s the use? Neil has no interest in romance. Andrew said he’d just as rather die than tell him. You should have seen him, Matt! I’ve never witnessed him in such a state before, drunk on whiskey and unrequited love and surrounded by…poetry!”

“Poetry?”

“Yes!” Nicky said. “He’s been writing it! Page after page, extolling Neil’s virtues and beauty, and every one of them consigned to the flame, never to be read!”

Neil shoved his fist in his mouth to stop from making a sound. This could not be happening. He felt like he’d fallen through a portal into some Fae universe, where up was down and night was day. It would be more plausible than the conversation his ears were now disbelieving. 

(Matt gestured frantically to Nicky, out of sight. _Too much?_ he mouthed. Nicky held out his hands in a helpless, panicked plea. Matt cast around for a moment, catching sight of a patch of bushy hedge which was rustling in the placid, unmoving afternoon heat. He made a wild gesture to Nicky, as if to say _keep talking, or he’ll figure it out!_ )

“He almost killed me when I saw him,” Nicky said, sounding strangled. _That_ at least sounded like Andrew. The rest? Neil could scarcely believe it. “I suppose it explains his inability to settle down, too. Hard to pursue one relationship when your heart belongs to another.”

“I fear he will have to find a way,” Matt said. “Neil loves him not. Why, even if Andrew were to confess, I expect Neil would only ridicule him for it.”

“I know, I know,” Nicky said wearily. “If only he knew what his scorn cost him. My cousin is perhaps the only man alive willing to love Neil and still tread lightly on his boundaries, but Neil will never see it.”

The stone frog dug into Neil’s stomach. He strained, barely able to hear as Matt sighed heavily. “I suppose it’s better for all involved if he stays silent. Perhaps eventually he will be able to move on from this hopeless infatuation.”

There was a moment of silence. Not even a bird twittered in the dead afternoon heat. “I do apologize,” Nicky said. “You have your wedding to be planning, and here I am, gossiping like an old hen.”

“No need for all that,” Matt said. “I don’t mind.”

“You mustn’t tell Neil, though. I know you two are dear friends—”

“Peace, Nicky. I will keep everything you’ve said in confidence, you have my word.”

“Thank you.”

Matt heaved another gusty sigh. “We should probably return to the preparations,” he said. 

“I did warn you that organizing a wedding in a week was an act of hubris.”

“You did, you did,” Matt said ruefully. 

Their feet brushed against paving stones and then onto the soft grass. Neil went cold with realization. If they rounded the corner, there was no way they’d miss him crouching here. 

He had no time to think. He dashed down the path in the opposite direction, head low, and careened sideways into the long, dangling fronds of the willow tree by the pond. The screening branches blocked the view above his waist, but his feet were completely exposed. He scrambled for the trunk, grabbing an overhead branch and swinging his legs up, koala style, to cling to the branch. 

The only sound was the pounding of his heart in his ears. The branch creaked a little under his weight, swaying from the force of his jump. _Not_ his best hiding spot. And normally he was so good at these games. 

He blinked his eyes open half an inch from the rough bark of the tree, green with a thin layer of lichen. He counted in his head to a hundred, then a hundred again, before his arms started to ache from holding his weight and he shimmied along the branch until he could roll on top of it. 

He leaned back against the trunk, still in shock. His hands were green from the crumbly lichen, and his clothes were in a state; sweaty and stained from running, and now covered in bark and leaves and God only knew what else. 

He banged his head back against the trunk. Andrew? 

The sparring was amusing, he supposed. Andrew was one of the few people who could hold his own against Neil in conversation, but that was hardly the basis for romance. 

“Stupid,” he said out loud. He shouldn’t even be speculating. This was just more of Nicky’s patented absurdity. Yes, certainly Andrew was handsome enough—Neil had _eyes_ —and his hair was always shimmering in the light and looked soft as down to the touch, and he was strong and steady enough to deal with even Neil’s constant bluster—

“Oh _fuck_ ,” he said.

* * *

Andrew stared vacantly at his cigarette. The cherry glowed and faded as a faint breeze crossed it. His head tingled like it was stuffed with wool, too soft and formless to wrap about a coherent thought. 

It had been three days since his revelation—three days of hedging and freezing, and backing out at the last moment. Indecisiveness was most unlike Andrew. He disliked it intensely. 

Therein lay the problem, though; he was accustomed to a different sort of proposition, and a blunter one. But Dan had said that Neil was uninterested in being one of Andrew’s casuals, which meant he needed to somehow make it plain that those were not his intentions. 

That required baring a little too much of his throat for comfort. Neil, for his part, was too busy with preparation to spend even a few minutes squabbling with Andrew, which was some comfort, since it meant he was, with luck, still unsuspicious of Andrew’s change in heart.

“Andrew, was that a sigh?” Dan asked, throwing herself down on the chair next to him and passing him a tankard of ale. She took a sip from her own, smiling slyly. 

“I believe it was,” Renee said from his other side, making a show of feigning concern. “Do you suffer some affliction?”

“Why, his temper has been so out of sorts these few days, I think perhaps he suffers love,” Dan said. 

“Don’t be absurd,” Kevin said from the fourth and final chair. “He has not the heart, nor the patience.”

Andrew let out a heavy sigh through his nose, stubbing out his cigarette and taking a long pull from his ale with a grimace. 

“Oh,” Kevin said, regarding him with surprise. “Perhaps I am mistaken.”

“Surely not,” Renee said teasingly. “Andrew, have you no repartee?”

He shot her a glare over the top of his tankard. Dan gasped. “Renee, he does not protest! It must be true. Andrew, tell me, what soul has finally caught your disapproving eye?”

“Well, actually,” he began. “I…”

“Ohhh,” Dan said, leaning forward. “Yes, do tell us!”

“I....have a toothache,” he said. The others groaned. 

“I declare you a liar,” Dan said. "I’ve not seen you so melancholic in all the years I’ve known you.”

“Against my better judgement I concur,” Kevin said. “Why, he's been right out of sorts.”

“Can't a man have a toothache in peace?” Andrew groused. 

“If truly he had one, perhaps it would be allowed,” Renee said. Andrew glared at her in betrayal, but she merely smiled sweetly. “Don’t be coy, my friend. Dishonestly does not become you.”

“And meddlesome does not become you either, yet I’ve never seen that stop you,” Andrew shot back. 

“He yet has teeth,” Dan said, grinning. “But I think I still spy a few marks of love in him.”

“You are contemptible, the lot of you,” Andrew said. 

“So you have often told me,” Kevin said. “Yet, here you remain.”

Andrew growled and rolled to his feet. He had too much to think on to abide this sort of treatment, nor did they much appear to need him for the preparations. For apparent reasons, his opinion was not much sought for nuptial matters.

He froze before he made it two steps. “Highness,” he said, warily.

The erstwhile Prince Riko raised his hands, stepping out of the shadowed doorway. His suit was black and long at the tail, his vest red like blood beneath it. “Peace, friends. I mean no harm.”

“Riko?” Kevin said, scrambling to his feet. Andrew shifted to put himself in between them, setting his tankard aside to free his hands. “Why didn't you announce your presence?”

“I apologize for accosting you in such secrecy, brother. I would speak to you in confidence. It is a matter of some urgency.”

“You’ll speak with all of us or none of us,” Andrew said flatly. “I will not allow you alone with the Prince.”

“Yes, of course,” Riko said, glancing at Dan. “Perhaps it is best, as this concerns your friend as well.”

Dan rose, immediately fighting ready. “What do you mean by that?”

“I have...information, regarding your intended.”

“Matt?” she demanded. “What do you know of him?”

“There are...rumours, my lady.”

“Sergeant,” Renee and Andrew corrected simultaneously, almost without thinking.

“My apologies,” Riko said. His hands were still held up in a placating gesture, his expression sincere and serious. Andrew’s forehead knit in suspicion. “Sergeant, I fear your fiancé is not as recovered as he has led the court to believe.”

“So your purpose is slander,” Andrew said. “We’ve heard enough. Get out.”

“Shut up, Andrew,” Dan snapped. His eyes shot to her, startled by her vehemence, but her gaze was fixed on Riko. “Explain.”

“He has been careful to keep it out of the eye of the nobility, Sergeant, but less cautious around the servants. My manservant heard tell that he has been slipping away some nights to indulge his old habits.”

“Dan,” Andrew said. “Look at whom you speak with. You are not listening to this snake over the counsel of your family.”

Her eyes cut to him for a brief instance. They shone with a fierce light. Unease twisted in Andrew’s stomach. Dan was not a hot-headed woman, but she had been burned too often by inconstant men to trust easily. The prospect of having trusted wrongly again was like thrusting a knife directly beneath her armour. 

She turned her gaze back on Riko. “Why should I believe a word you say?” 

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Riko said. “I’ll prove it. Three days hence, your intended and his nearest friends will descend to the town for a night of drinking and merriment. At midnight, he will slip away to purchase his...medicines. If you will let me, I can show you the place.”

“And he will be there?” 

“Dan,” Renee said softly. “This is unwise.”

“What would be unwise is to not be certain,” Dan snapped. 

“You are letting your pride rule you,” Renee said. 

“And shouldn’t I be proud?” Dan said. “I will not bind myself to a liar. Highness, I trust you less than I would an adder in my bedchamber, but I will go with you and see for myself. I cannot risk less.”

“The lady is prudent,” Riko said, with a short bow. 

“That’s Sergeant to you,” she said coldly. 

“Riko,” Kevin said, tentatively. “Are you sure of this?”

Riko’s turned his head to Kevin, and there was a nearly believable softening of his expression, a wistful sadness overtaking his eyes. Andrew’s hackles rose at the elaborate act, but he could almost feel Kevin falling for it. “I know I have made mistakes,” he said quietly. “But I am trying to make amends. I am sorry that my news brings pain, but I could not in good conscience stay silent.”

“That’s enough,” Andrew said. “Get out.”

Riko’s eyes hardened minutely as he glanced at Andrew. “I hope one day I can earn your trust as well, Andrew, though I understand it may come dear. For now, adieu. I will see you in three days' time.”

He backed away and disappeared into the hallway. The other four remained frozen in a tense tableau for a long moment. The sun baked down upon the open courtyard, but their shaded nook felt like it had dropped several degrees. 

“Dan,” Renee began cautiously. 

“Don’t,” she said. Her expression was stiff and tense. “I’m going to the archery fields. Don’t follow me.”

She stalked away, her boots ringing against the stone floors. Kevin fretted with his drink until Andrew snatched it from his hands with a warning glare. He dumped it into the nearest flower pot. 

“Don’t forget what he is capable of,” Andrew said, low. 

“He wasn’t always a monster, Andrew,” Kevin said. “When we were children—”

“You are not children,” Andrew said. “You’ve already given him more than enough leeway. Clear your mind.”

Kevin fell silent, expression troubled. Renee met Andrew's gaze, and the apprehension in her eyes matched Andrew’s. 

This could mean nothing good. 

* * *

Andrew had no choice but to shelve thoughts of Neil for the rest of the days running up to the wedding. Dan was cagey and tense, and Kevin was retreating into his head, fingering the old tattoo on his cheek when he thought Andrew wasn't watching. 

The night before the wedding found him conflicted. They'd heard no more news from Riko, and Matt and his entourage were blissfully unaware of the intrigues happening around them. 

He buttoned his doublet—black, embroidered with silver—contemplating the problem. Dan would never forgive him if he warned Matt, and speaking with him was too out of character for him anyway; it would be noted. Likewise, if he spoke to Neil. That left only one option. 

A knock at his door interrupted his musing. He checked his reflection once more in the mirror before going to open it. 

Nicky breezed in, his own suit shimmering into a thousand colours like black opal. His eyes were limned in smoky kohl, giving him an unearthly cast. 

“Andrew!” he said, breaking the illusion. “You called for me? What is it? You need advice, don't you? Is it the suit? I've always said you need just a splash of colour--”

“I don't need fashion advice,” Andrew said flatly. 

“Then what is it?” Nicky threw himself down in Andrew's armchair, legs sprawled in a debonair fashion. His grin grew wicked. “Oh, I know. You need _love_ advice.”

Andrew eyed him suspiciously. “You've been acting passing strange, this past week.”

Nicky's smile softened. “Is it so hard to believe I missed you?”

“You have Aaron here.”

“It's not the same and you know it, Andrew. He's down in the town practically every living minute studying with the surgeon, and you were...gone.”

Andrew walked away and grabbed a pair of boots from his wardrobe, avoiding the sincerity in Nicky's eyes. He sat on the bench beside his mirror, placing the boots next to him. 

“I…” he began. The words tangled up in his mouth, too heavy to escape. He closed his mouth and shook his head, shoving one foot into a boot. “You're going into town with Matt tonight, yes?”

“Andrew—”

“Answer the question.”

He could hear Nicky's frown in his voice. “Yes, of course.”

“Stay close to Matt, tonight.”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

Andrew shook his head. “Probably nothing. But you can't let him out of your sight, not even for a minute.”

“Andrew, you're worrying me.”

He got the second boot laced and rested his elbows on his knees, meeting Nicky's eyes. “Can you do it?”

Nicky's smile had vanished, and a furrow marred his brow. “Yes,” he said. “If it's that important to you, then yes, anything.”

Andrew nodded curtly and stood. “I'm to meet Dan and the others on the hour,” he said. 

“Of course,” Nicky said, and Andrew held the door open until Nicky took the hint and left him with a few more passing inconsequential words. Andrew locked the door behind them and headed down the corridor towards the entry hall. He passed Prince Riko’s manservant as he went by the wing where Neil and Matt lived. He gave the man a hard stare and he jumped, scurrying out of Andrew’s way like a leggy spider. 

Andrew brushed past and Jean clutched the bundle in his arms closer to his stomach, waiting until Andrew disappeared around the corner to hurry back towards his chambers. He got into his narrow room, which was crammed in beside Riko’s like an afterthought, without encountering anyone else.

He breathed a sigh of relief and dropped Matt’s distinctive longcoat on the bed in front of him. He stared at it for a long moment. 

How had it come to this, he wondered. He wasn’t even like Dan or Renee, born in penury; his family had been well off, once. Respected. 

Perhaps if his grandparents had been less greedy, they still would be. Instead, his father had drowned beneath the weight of their debts, and now Jean paid the price. 

He sighed and went to rest his head against his small table. Riko was already dressed and headed to town, but Jean wasn’t to follow for several hours; until nearly midnight, in fact. Even with Matt’s coat, he needed to wear several layers to make himself resemble the larger man. Luckily they were of a complexion, or Riko would probably have made him paint his face too. 

He pushed himself upright, staring out the tiny window above his bed. The sun sank precipitously towards the horizon, lighting up the sky in bloody streaks as it sank ever lower, until it faded away entirely.

* * *

Andrew sipped his whiskey slowly, surveying the crowds. Allison and Renee were dancing at one end of the dimly lit hall, plastered over one another like a bad rash. They’d opted for the lower taverns, away from the judgemental eyes of the local nobility. It was a setting Andrew would usually find comfortable. Roland was at the bar tonight, and he'd repeatedly tried to catch Andrew's eye; it would have been tempting, if it had been a normal night. 

Instead, he shared a table with Dan, who had been drinking in a stiff and regimented fashion for the past three hours. The table in front of her was scattered with empty cups. 

Andrew said nothing. Perhaps another person would have attempted to calm her, but Andrew saw no point; in less than an hour, they’d know the truth of the thing, one way or another. 

A flurry at the door drew his attention. Riko strode in, his elaborate suit and duelling cane out of place amongst the colourful and playful costumes of the tavern-goers. Andrew set his glass aside, getting to his feet. He left Dan there, wading into the crowd to retrieve Kevin. He was teetering on his feet with a girl from town, barely able to stay upright, which meant he’d acquired some more to drink; Andrew had carefully portioned out his drinks earlier in the night. 

Annoyance sparked in him as he towed Kevin, protesting, off the dance floor. He had his hands full tonight managing Dan’s prickly mood. Life had gotten so much more complicated since he’d extended his boundaries to include more than just Nicky and Aaron. 

He pushed Kevin towards Dan’s table and scanned the room. In the time it had taken for him to find Kevin, Riko had disappeared. 

“Andrew!”

He tensed, spinning on his heel. Neil swung in next to him, a grin splitting his flushed cheeks. His breath smelled of ale, and sweat beaded on his forehead, sticking his auburn hair to his skin. “You’re looking especially dour, tonight.”

“And you reek,” Andrew said, pushing him away. “You’re supposed to drink the ale, not bathe in it.”

Neil laughed, glancing at Andrew and away again quickly. “Matt tripped and dumped it on me. I think Allison will never forgive him for ruining my new shirt.”

Andrew inhaled sharply as Neil leaned closer to him, clearly at least a little intoxicated, despite his protests. _Focus,_ he told himself. He couldn’t afford distraction tonight. “Where is he?” he asked, trying to sound casual. 

“Matt?” Neil said. “He and Nicky were going to investigate the new tavern near the inn. I wanted to check in on my sister. Is she here? She must be here.”

“She—”

Andrew’s gesture died halfway into the air. The table he’d left Dan at was empty, only glittering tankards remaining to mark that it had once had occupants. 

“Damnit,” he said. 

“You lost her?” Neil said. “Some master soldier you are.”

“Not _now,_ ” Andrew snapped, stretching upwards to scan the crowd. He couldn’t see Dan or Kevin anywhere. 

“Andrew—” Neil said, sounding uncertain and a little lost.

Andrew grit his teeth and plunged into the crowd. Neil’s words were lost in the noise. He didn’t have time to explain himself, and Neil was in no state to be useful. 

He burst out the swinging door onto the street. The night was cool and clear, stars sparkling in the sky like freshly washed crystal. The street was empty but for a single drunk, slumped next to the well. 

Andrew hurried along the street, checking every alleyway as he passed. The streets yielded no secrets. 

He turned into the town square, spinning on his heel to scan every road that entered and left it. There were still many people out and about, despite the late hour; tomorrow was the midsummer festival.

None of them were Dan or Kevin. Andrew was too late.


	4. Act 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which andrew seriously contemplates murder, and gets some tender smooching for it. 
> 
> thanks once again to [@thebashfulpoet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBashfulPoet/pseuds/TheBashfulPoet) for the beta, you're the best <3

Quiet music floated across the lawn as guests milled about. Renee lingered under a flowered arch, reading from a small leather-bound notebook. Smiles and serenity floated through the air, cut with the scent of nectar.

Unease twisted in Andrew’s stomach. Matt was sitting some distance away with Nicky and Neil, looking somehow both delirious with happiness and delirious with fear. He did not look like he’d been caught red-handed making illicit purchases last night.

Andrew schooled his face to stillness. Dan was still in the manor with Wymack, preparing. He hadn’t seen her yet this morning, but no one had yet called off the wedding. That had to be a good sign.

His suspicions were still somehow not assuaged.

Neil thudded into the seat next to him. Andrew jumped, glancing back at where Matt was sitting, now with Nicky alone. “How did you do that?” he groused.

“I have my ways,” Neil said, wiping sweat from his forehead. His skin was a little pale, and he squinted against the sunlight. Andrew wondered how much he had to drink last night; he’d only seen Neil drunk a handful of times.

“So,” Neil started. “About last night—”

“Have you seen Prince Riko?” Andrew said.

Neil stopped. “No,” he said. “Should I have?”

Andrew’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know.”

“Is this about the masquerade?” Neil asked.

Andrew’s mind flew back, his shoulders tensing. His recollection primarily featured Neil mocking him. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said tightly.

“I apologize for my presumption,” Neil said, looking irritated by Andrew’s abrasive tone. “I’m going to go…change my shoes.”

“You should,” he said. “They’re about three hundred years out of style.”

Neil made an indistinct noise as he stood, a grouchy set to his mouth. Andrew watched him go through the corner of his eye, feeling vaguely like he’d missed something.

He grit his teeth and turned away just in time to watch Nicky and Allison look away rapidly, making a show of starting loud conversations with whoever was nearby. He frowned.

Before he could descend into speculation, however, Renee set her notebook aside and smiled beatifically. “If everyone could please find their seats, the ceremony will begin presently.”

Andrew straightened up in his seat and scanned the crowd as everyone found their spots. The musicians started up a bright marching tune. Nicky dropped into the chair next to Andrew, giving him a sly grin. “What were you and Neil talking about just now?”

Andrew gave him a flat look, twisting in his seat in time to watch Prince Riko slip out of the entry hall and take a post at the back of the seating area, standing regally with his hands folded in front of him a few feet from where Kevin stood. Andrew’s sense of unease rose.

A moment later, Dan and Wymack emerged through the open doorway. Her white uniform was accented in gold, and she wore the formal jacket they reserved for parades at the capital, a red sash across her chest. Her expression was calm and unreadable.

If anything bad were to have happened, he thought, it should have happened last night.

His gut told him otherwise, though.

The music carried her and Wymack forward until they stood before Renee and Matt. Neil hovered a few steps behind Matt as his groomsman.

“Welcome, friends,” Renee said. “Family, honoured neighbours. We gather here today to celebrate the union of two of my dearest friends. David, if you would?”

“Not like I have much of a choice remaining,” Wymack said gruffly, unhooking his arm from Dan’s. He smoothed a hand over her shoulder. “Never did manage to chase the devil out of you.”

She raised her chin, meeting his eye. “I have in all things sought only to bring honour to your house.”

“I know,” Wymack said, and cast Matt a long, proud look. Matt glowed back.

Wymack nodded and turned away abruptly, striding back to his chair with a solid expression to his face that did not disguise the tears in his eyes.

“If anyone here knows any reason that these two should not be wed, speak now,” Renee said.

Dan turned and Matt mirrored her, drawn by an inexorable current. She took his hands in hers, gazing up into his open face. “Is there any such reason, my love?”

Matt smiled. “Nothing will keep me away from you again.”

“And there will be no more secrets,” she said. “No more lies.”

A brief shadow crossed Matt’s face. Andrew tensed. “Never again,” Matt said. “I swear it.”

Dan reached up and touched his cheek. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. She studied his expression for a long moment.

Her voice was soft but deadly as a serpent’s hiss as she spoke again. “How I wish I could believe you,” she said.

“What?” Matt said, eyes shooting open.

“Dan,” Renee said.

Dan withdrew her hands, stepping back. Her expression hardened, cold as the first winter’s frost. “How can you stand before me and swear honesty after what you did last night?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Matt stuttered. “I never—”

“Even now you lie!” she snapped. She gestured to the shocked crowd. “Look at him! Would you not believe his act? I saw the evidence with my own eyes, and even still I would almost believe his charade.”

“Dan,” Matt said desperately. “Whatever you saw, I can explain it. I swear I have done nothing untoward—”

“Then you deny that you purchased milk of the poppy last night, by moonlight in the Pauper’s square?”

“Yes, I deny it!” Matt said. “I have not touched a drop in over a year. Dan—”

“Do not speak my name!” Dan cried. “I cannot hear it from your deceitful lips. God, to think I nearly wed you!”

“Dan!” Neil snapped, pushing past Matt to stand between them. “What is the meaning of this?”

Renee regained her wits at the same moment. “Danielle—”

“That’s Sergeant to you,” Dan snapped. “You doubted me, but I saw it for myself.”

“Saw what?” Neil demanded. “Matt was in mine or Nicky’s company all last night. There was rowdiness, to be sure, but nothing indiscreet occurred.”

“Can you swear it?” she asked. “Can you swear there was no minute you left him unattended, that he could slip away?”

“I need not swear it, sister! I know my friend, and you dishonour him with these accusations. Have you any proof?”

“I was there,” Kevin said. Andrew whipped around in his chair. Kevin strode up the aisle, that snake Prince Riko at his heels. “Myself and my brother bore witness at the toll of midnight last night to Matthew Boyd making illegal purchases in the lower town.”

Riko opened his mouth to agree, but Neil’s face twisted in fury. “You!” he snarled. “You did this!”

“I would not have chosen this forum to reveal the unfortunate man’s foible, but I stand witness to the events the Sergeant and my brother have described,” Prince Riko said evenly. “Matthew Boyd is a liar and a fraud, and it would do you dishonour to allow him to marry your sister.”

“You bastard,” Neil snarled.

“I wish only—”

He didn’t get another word out before Neil’s fist took him in the face. Andrew surged to his feet, but Renee was there first, hauling Neil back. He fought against her grip. “You lying—slandering—revolting—little— _bastard.”_

“Neil!” Dan snapped. “That is enough. Prince Riko brought me the truth when the rest of you _cowards_ were only perfectly glad to see me bind my life to this—”

“Peace, Sergeant,” Prince Riko said, touching a gloved hand to the reddening mark on his cheek. “The child is distraught.”

“The _child_ can speak for himself,” Neil snapped. “I know you orchestrated this, you slimy, weaselly piece of scum.”

“I think perhaps we should retire, Sergeant,” Prince Riko said. “Emotions are running high at this moment. We should do best to let tempers cool before we make any rash decisions.”

“I am going to kill you,” Neil said. “You are going to regret the day you were born.”

“Dan,” Matt said, desperation in his voice. “I entreat you, listen to me—”

“Do not prolong this encounter,” Dan said coldly. “Come, let us depart.”

Matt grabbed her arm to stop her. It was a fatal mistake. Dan ripped her arm out of his grasp and spun, striking him across the face with a resounding _slap_.

“Dan!” Wymack shouted as Matt reeled back, clutching his face. Andrew forced himself between them, grabbing Dan’s raised wrist and pressing her backwards. She fell back a step before wrenching her arm free. She shoved him roughly, but he maintained his stance, solid and unyielding.

“You are making a mistake,” he said.

“The only mistake I made was trusting him,” Dan said, her eyes passing beyond his shoulder and making it clear which _him_ she meant. For the first time, sorrow passed over her face before she steeled it away. “I could have forgiven your habit,” she said to Matt. “We could have faced it together. But I cannot abide lies.”

“Dan…” Matt whispered.

Wymack stood beside him, guarding him with his body. “This behaviour is unacceptable,” he said.

“I will not apologize for refusing to compromise my dignity,” Dan said.

“This is not the woman I raised,” Wymack said. Dan flinched, and Kevin put a supportive hand on her shoulder.

She shook it off, but Kevin locked eyes with his father. “You should worry about your other charges,” he said. “Come, Sergeant. There is nothing more for us here.”

They didn’t spare the group another glance as they departed through the courtyard gate, leaving the grounds entirely. Silence reigned over the ruins of the celebration.

“Get out,” Allison snarled, whipping around, her dress swirling like a banner around her. “All of you! _Get out!”_

The other guests scrambled to their feet, not even murmuring in shock as Allison drove them out. Once every last guest was gone, she stood fuming in the centre of the now-askew seating area like an enraged monarch in the wreckage of her court.

Slowly, Renee released her hold on Neil. He wrenched free the second her arms loosened, rolling his shoulders with a black look on his face.

“It isn’t true,” Matt whispered. “I swear it.”

“You have nothing to prove,” Neil said. “That vile little—”

“Neil,” Renee said. “I understand your anger, but you must control yourself. We cannot fight Riko if we do not know what he wants.”

“This!” Neil said, gesturing expansively. “This is what he wants. Us, fighting amongst ourselves like dogs! He has been plotting to tear us apart since the day you returned.”

“Nicky,” Andrew interrupted. Neil glared at him, but he held a hand up to stay his protests. “Do you remember what I requested, yesterday?”

Nicky, who was still sitting, shell-shocked, with Erik’s hands pinned between his own, jumped. “You—yes, of course. I stayed with him all last night. There is no way what they said happened could have occurred.”

Matt slumped into a chair, and Renee hurried to his side, cradling him in her arms. He buried his face against her stomach, trembling. “I don’t know what to do,” he moaned. “I can’t show my face after that spectacle—”

“Shh,” Renee said. “We will fix this, Matt. I promise you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Matt said. “They all saw it. Even if you clear my name—”

“Breathe, Matt. That’s alright, keep breathing.” She raised her head, regarding their small troop. “We must approach this calmly, which means we need time,” she said. “I will accompany Matt back to his chambers. Nicky, please call for some bread and soup. Allison, clear away this mess. I think none of us want any reminders of what passed here.”

“I’ll organize the household,” Wymack said. “Lord knows it’s too late to halt the gossip, but I may be able to mitigate the consequences.”

Neil raised his head again. “I will deal with Riko.”

Renee paused for a moment, watching him with discerning eyes. “I cannot stop you,” she said. Her gaze turned to Andrew. “Keep him safe?”

Andrew gave her a brief nod of acquiescence. She inclined her head in gratitude before turning to whisper something in Matt’s ear. He shivered, seeming to take strength from her nearness. She helped lever him out of his seat while the others bustled off on their various tasks.

Neil watched them go for a long moment before spinning on his heels and marching away. Andrew followed him silently. He didn’t think Neil would be quite so foolish as to go on the offensive just yet, but if he was, Andrew would guard his safety.

Though by the mark he had left on Riko’s face, he might need less protection than the others thought.

Neil did not aim directly for vengeance. He led Andrew down past the gardens to the pond. A green film of algae covered the rocks by the side of the small pool. A trio of ducks paddled away from them as they approached, leaving V-shaped ripples in their wakes. Neil came to a halt by the water, his posture rigid.

Andrew stopped beside him, leaving him a few feet of space to fume. He gazed across the water and waited.

“If Renee had let me,” Neil said, voice quiet and hard as iron, “I would have ripped his heart out with my bare hands.”

Andrew tipped his head to look at Neil, but his eyes were fixed on the pond. Somehow, Andrew doubted he was absorbing much of the idyllic scene.

Andrew nodded slowly and pulled out a small tin of tobacco from his coat pocket. He pinched a little onto a piece of rolling paper and rubbed it between his fingers until a thin roll formed. He wet the edge of the paper with his tongue to seal it down and offered the cigarette to Neil.

It took him a moment to notice Andrew’s offering, but he blinked, accepting it after a pause. Andrew struck a match and handed it to him, their fingers brushing in the exchange.

Andrew looked away and busied himself making a second cigarette. The faint smell of tobacco smoke permeated the air, but the breeze kept it off. He lit his own with a second match and grabbed Neil’s sleeve, tugging just slightly before heading off around the edge of the pond to a small stone bench.

He took a seat and after a moment, Neil joined him. He held his smouldering cigarette beside his face, though he hadn’t taken another drag after getting it lit. Andrew shook his head, inhaling smoke and letting the calm suffuse his body. Renee disapproved of his habit, and he’d reduced it in recent years. The tobacco was soothing, today.

“Why did you tell Nicky to follow Matt, last night?” Neil asked.

Andrew paused. “I had an inkling that Prince Riko was plotting something.”

“Because of what happened at the masquerade?”

Andrew frowned. He didn’t understand why Neil kept bringing up the masquerade. Neil must have caught his expression, because he continued: “Someone in a raven mask approached Matt and told him that Kevin was going to propose to Dan. He nearly fled before the real engagement was announced.”

“Ah,” Andrew said. Of course it wasn’t about what Neil had said to Andrew that night. He probably didn’t even remember taking the time to lampoon Andrew to a hapless party guest.

Neil shook his head. “I can scarcely believe Dan let herself get taken in by that vile creature.”

“She can be proud,” Andrew said.

“I will kill him for hurting Matt,” Neil said. His voice was low as encroaching thunder, a dark promise in his words. “He should never have been allowed to walk free after the scandal, but his title protected him. The world will be better off without him.”

Andrew stared at the pond. The same thought had occurred to him; even if they exposed Riko’s involvement, nothing worse would happen to him than a slap on the wrist.

“I could best him in a swordfight,” Andrew said. “But he is titled and I am not. He loses nothing by rejecting my challenge.”

Neil swivelled to stare at him, his cigarette drooping precipitously from his fingers. “Oh god,” he said. “You’re actually considering it, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t think you spoke in jest,” Andrew said.

“I didn’t,” Neil breathed, and took Andrew’s face in his hands and kissed him.

His mouth was rough and clumsy against Andrew’s, and he was so shocked he nearly forgot to kiss him back. He dropped his cigarette, grabbing Neil’s wrists to stop him from touching him anywhere else, but he didn’t pull his hands away. Neil was obviously inexperienced, but it didn’t matter. He pressed into Neil’s kiss like it was the last oxygen he’d ever breathe, like he’d been waiting for this for more than just three days.

Who knew? Perhaps he had.

Neil drew back a little. Andrew’s eyes opened immediately, but there was nothing regretful in Neil’s expression. His eyes were still pressed closed, his lips parted in the shape of a kiss. Andrew loosened his grip on Neil’s wrists to brush the hair out of Neil’s eyes, tracing a line down the side of his cheek. He dropped one hand to Neil’s leg, tangling the other in the front of his shirt.

He leaned in again, brushing his lips against Neil’s. He responded in kind, easily, as if there was nothing more natural in the world than for him to be here, kissing Andrew. Andrew’s chest burned with light, a radiant warmth permeating his bones that was incongruous with the chasteness of the kiss.

Neil sighed, resting his forehead against Andrew’s. “This wasn’t how this was supposed to go,” he said.

“It’s you,” Andrew said. “I wouldn’t have expected anything other than disaster.”

Neil tweaked Andrew’s hair in admonishment, which caused a funny reaction in Andrew’s stomach that he did _not_ have time to sort out right now. “You like it,” Neil said.

“I do not,” Andrew said.

“You like _me._ ”

“I hate you,” Andrew said. “Ninety percent of the time I want to kill you.”

“Really?” Neil said, smirking.

“I fantasize about skinning you alive and hanging your hide out like a banner as a warning to any other fool who dares to cross me.”

Neil’s eyes flashed with a brief glimmer of humour. “Mm-hm. And the other ten percent?”

“Stop talking,” Andrew said, and kissed him again to prevent him from arguing. Neil kissed him back, his lips warm and soft against Andrew’s. He could feel the edge of a smile tugging at Neil’s mouth, and smoothed it away with a kiss.

It was Neil that drew back first, and Andrew leaned away, regarding him. His eyes grew solemn as he dropped his hands from Andrew’s face back to his own lap.

Andrew relinquished his grip on Neil’s coat, smoothing his hand over the wrinkles before sitting back fully out of Neil’s space. The summer sun glowed down on them, sending glittering prisms reflecting off the pond. For a moment, Andrew entertained a fantasy of taking Neil back to his chambers. He had a window seat furnished with pillows that caught the midday sun just right, where they could lounge in the golden sunlight, lazy and indolent, exploring one another while the world turned onwards without them.

The warmth of the image slipped away. Lives such as theirs were not so simple.

“Killing Riko will not heal what happened today,” Neil said. “We need proof of his treachery.”

Andrew nodded slowly. “He must have had an accomplice. He would not have relied on chance that someone resembling Matt would be in the lower town at the hour he specified.”

“His manservant may know something. Aristocrats are lax around members of the staff,” Neil said.

Andrew nodded again. Riko himself had said the same thing, and it was true; less so, perhaps, of them, as they had not been born into this life. But it was most certainly true of the Prince.

“He may be too frightened to speak out, though,” Neil carried on, a frown creasing his brow. “Given the Prince’s reputation for cruelty.”

“I can make him speak.”

Neil drummed his fingers against the back of the bench, considering. “It may not be necessary. There is one person he may speak to.”

Andrew tipped his head in question. “Renee,” Neil clarified. “I noticed it a few days ago. He admires her very greatly.”

Andrew had to pause. He was always caught off guard by the things Neil noticed. “She is married,” Andrew reminded him.

“I was not suggesting she court him,” Neil said. “Merely that he may be more amenable to her than us.”

There was sense in that. “I will find him,” Andrew promised. “Fetch Renee and meet me in the study.”

He got to his feet and hesitated. Neil’s face was still tipped up at him, an uncertain light in his eyes. The air crystallized, strung taut between them.

Andrew cursed himself for a fool and lurched forward, pressing his mouth against Neil’s for a brief instant. The stiffness in Neil’s posture eased, then Andrew drew back, spinning on his heel and striding away without a second glance before he could do anything else stupid.

The manservant, he reminded himself. That was the important thing right now.

He took the servants’ hallways through the manor to reduce the risk of being seen, emerging in the west wing where Riko had his chambers. The room that housed his manservant was locked and did not yield to Andrew’s knocking.

He glanced around before dropping to his knees, pulling a set of wires from his tobacco case. He set to work on the lock and made short work of it, popping the door open.

The room was narrow, just space for a bed and a desk, with little in the way of personal possessions. Wymack would be annoyed to see how mean a room Riko had given his man; all of their staff members had suites quadruple the size. Andrew closed the door behind him and began a methodical search of the small room.

The closet contained only a handful of uniforms and a set of sleeping gowns; the desk was likewise bare. He did find one book hidden under the pillow, a slender, worn-out volume of children’s tales. He flipped it open and found an inscription on the first page, addressing love to Jean from _ta sœur, Collette._ From how faded the lettering was, he imagined the gift was several years old.

He returned the book to its hiding place and ducked down to check under the bed. A large bundle of cloth was haphazardly stuffed there, and he drew it out.

It unfolded in his hands, revealing Matt’s familiar brown overcoat. He stared at it, surprised at the wave of loathing that rose in his chest. If they had needed any proof of wrongdoings, surely this was it.

The door opened. Jean froze halfway through the doorway, his eyes widening.

Andrew rose to his feet, giving Jean the impersonal, cold stare which had protected him all through his childhood and his time in the military. Jean’s eyes dropped to the coat in Andrew’s hands, a tremor of fear going through him.

“You are coming with me,” Andrew said.

* * *

Andrew marched Jean through the manor with one hand clamped on his shoulder to prevent him from running. He hadn’t made a single sound since he had found Andrew in his room, bottomless despair emptying his eyes. Andrew pushed him ahead, into the study, and glanced around before following and locking the door behind him.

Neil was already there, and he was accompanied by Renee and Wymack. Andrew nodded a greeting to them both; bringing Wymack was a smart move. He held a lot of power in this town, by dint of his association with royalty through Kevin.

Jean stood in the centre of the room like a walking corpse, eyes fixed on the floor. The cozy room was cramped with five of them in there. Each wall was lined with bookcases, and stacks of discarded and dog-eared books cluttered every inch of the desk and much of the two puffy chairs that faced the fireplace.

Andrew tossed Matt’s coat on top of the nearest one. Neil’s eyes followed the gesture, and his gaze hardened when he saw what Andrew had found.

Fortunately, it was Renee who acted first. She stepped forward, touching Matt’s coat with a gentle hand. “Where did you find this?” she asked.

“Under his bed,” Andrew said, jerking his head towards Jean.

“Jean,” Renee said. “Why—"

Jean closed his eyes, shuddering. “I will tell you nothing,” he said. “Do what you will. I will not betray my lord’s trust.”

Neil sneered, but Renee stopped him with a gesture. She stepped around the chair to stand in front of Jean, taking his hands in hers. He flinched as if she would strike him. It made for a strange image: he was over a head taller than her, but his cowering made him appear small.

“Jean,” she said softly. “Let us help you.”

Jean couldn’t avoid looking at her, not when she was so close. There was desperation there, but he shook his head. “You cannot help me.”

“Try me,” Wymack said. “I got Kevin out, didn’t I?”

“Kevin is your son,” Jean said. “I am nobody.”

Neil shifted rapidly on his feet, an unreadable expression flitting across his face.

“Never stopped me before,” Wymack said.

“He cannot touch you when you are with us,” Renee said. “Just tell us the truth. My friends are in pain, Jean. We need your help.”

Jean’s jaw twitched. “I cannot help you.”

Andrew folded his arms. This was going nowhere. They needed an edge.

“Collette,” he said.

Jean jerked his head up to stare at Andrew in abject horror, confirming his suspicions. “Your sister,” Andrew said. “That’s what he has on you, isn’t it? It’s not yourself you’re afraid for.”

“You know nothing,” Jean said.

Renee turned his face with a hand on his cheek so he had no choice but to look her in the eyes. “Is that true?” she asked. “Is he threatening your family?”

He swallowed, unable to resist her kindness. “We…have debts.”

“Debts can be absolved,” Wymack said. “Or paid, if nothing else can be arranged.”

“Why?” Jean asked. “Why would you do that for…me?”

“To ruin Riko,” Neil said. “Nothing personal.”

Renee pursed her lips at Neil. “Is it not our duty to alleviate pain, when we have the ability?”

Wymack shrugged. “I can’t speak to duty,” he said. “But it’s not about why. It’s about chances. Second, third, fourth, so long as you get one more than those assholes want to give you. And you seem kind of in need of a second chance, kid.”

Andrew had to look away. Wymack had given him and his family the exact same speech nearly a decade ago. From anyone else, the repetition would have felt dishonest, but not Wymack. He delivered the speech every time with the same blunt candour with which he approached everything.

Andrew would follow him to the ends of the Earth, if he asked. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.

Whatever Wymack saw in Jean’s expression, it was enough that he unfolded his arms. “Your sister. Where is she?”

Jean’s throat worked for a few seconds. His voice came out raw and hoarse. “Sisters,” he said. “There are two of them. Collette and Rosalie.” He invoked their names like they were holy, like a promise. “They work in Riko’s holdings near Lyon.”

Wymack rubbed his chin. “I have a colleague near there, Baron Rheman. He will take them in, at least until we can neutralize Riko. If I send a messenger now, they will be in his care by the week’s end.”

Jean was too stunned for words. Renee guided him down onto one of the couches, slipping behind Wymack’s desk and pouring a small glass of brandy. She placed it into Jean’s hand and sat next to him.

“Now,” she said. “Tell us what happened.”

He told them everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^.^ thanks for reading!


	5. Act 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which lots of people are stupid and dramatic, and aaron is too stressed out for this shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively: neil can have a little ruthlessness. as a treat.

Dan did not return to the manor all through the night and the next morning. Neil skulked by the entrance, watching for a sign of life from the village. The sky darkened, clouds building overhead like gathering armies, ready to burst.

His reward arrived in the afternoon, just as the first raindrops splattered down upon the cobbles. Two figures appeared by the gates, and Neil rose from his spot in the courtyard to hasten inside. By the time Dan and Kevin crossed the inner courtyard into the entrance hall, Neil waited there with Renee beside him, the only person that he could find with so little forewarning.

The doors swung open and Dan froze, her step hitching for a moment before she visibly steeled herself to cross over the threshold.

“And a good day to you, too,” Neil said, a surprising venom in his tone. Renee cast him a disapproving glance, but Neil ignored her; his forgiveness did not come as cheap as hers.

“Do not quarrel, brother,” Kevin said wearily.

“I do not quarrel,” Neil said. “Why, for there to be a quarrel, both sides would need to have a claim on the truth, and this matter has but one true side.”

“I acted in haste,” Dan said. “This I freely admit. But I cannot repent for another’s sins.”

Neil exhaled slowly through his nose, his jaw clenching involuntarily. “You truly believe that treacherous villain over your own brother.”

“I believe the evidence of my own eyes.”

“What evidence? That a man with passing semblance to Matt was indiscreet that night?”

“Neil—”

“By God, Dan, he’s dead!”

Dan stopped, lips parted in wordless shock. Her eyes shot to Renee, searching for confirmation, and Neil stepped forward to block her view. “He died of shock after what you did to him,” Neil said. “The doctor tended to him all night, but the fever took him this morning.”

Kevin stepped back, genuine horror in his expression. “That’s impossible.”

Dan put a shaky hand to her mouth. “Did he—”

“Even in death, you accuse him,” Neil snarled. “Have you not taken enough? Must you also try to slip your poisoned dagger between his sleeping ribs?”

“I…”

“He has had nothing stronger than wine for more than a year,” Neil said. “I swear it on my life, and if you value my life as little as his, then I will swear it on whatever you hold sacred. He did not lapse last night or the one before, but his years at the poppy’s whim made his heart frail. He had not the constitution for what befell him at your hands.”

Dan shook her head, horrified denial in her eyes. “No,” she said. “This is insanity—”

“You still don't believe me. Fine then! Perhaps you will believe _him.”_

He gestured to the shadows and Dan and Kevin swung around to look, too shocked to do anything but obey. Jean sat frozen where he was waiting, so quiet that he had nearly faded into the furniture.

“You,” Kevin frowned. “You’re Prince Riko’s manservant, are you not?”

“I was, your highness,” Jean said. He rose to his feet, drawing himself upright. He had the unimpeachable posture of a trained servant. He met Dan’s eyes, expression sober. “And I can attest to his guilt.”

Dan shook her head. “I saw—”

“What you saw was an illusion, trickery engineered by the Prince to drive a wedge between you and your family. It was not Matthew Boyd you saw in the town that night. It was me.”

Dan looked sick, like she would rather he stop now, but Jean did not shy away from his task. He kept his gaze steady and his voice even as he continued. “Riko bid me steal your fiancé’s coat and disguise myself, so that I could make the purchase at the predetermined hour. He even had me introduce myself as Matthew so that if you were to overhear us you would not see through his deceit.”

“So,” Dan faltered. “So, if Matt wasn’t there—”

A shadow of regret crossed Jean’s face. “I am deeply sorry, my lady,” he said, and Neil took it as a mark of how distraught Dan was that she did not correct her title. “My role in this is as repugnant to me as it must be to you. I do not presume to ask for your forgiveness, but only wish that my confession bring some small measure of clarity.”

“Your actions don’t warrant penance,” Renee said, speaking up for the first time. “You were compelled against your will. Lay the blame where it belongs: at Prince Riko’s feet.”

“I—” Dan cast around, wild-eyed. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I know you didn’t,” Neil said, voice quiet. “But that does not absolve you of your role.”

“I’m sorry, Neil,” she said. “I…I never should have doubted you. There is nothing I can say or do that will make this right.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you can at the very least clear Matt’s name. Go to the town hall and spread word of Prince Riko’s deception, so that everyone will know that Matt died innocent of his accusations.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I can—”

“Neil, relent,” Kevin said. His expression was horrified as he reached for Dan’s shoulder. “She’s in shock, you can’t ask her—”

“ _Don’t touch me,_ ” Dan snarled, throwing his hand off of her. “You do not speak for me. I will do my duty by Matt. That much I owe him.”

“The funeral will be at sunrise on the morrow,” Neil said. “Only family. We don’t need another public debacle like you made yesterday.”

“I will be there,” she swore.

She turned to face the open doorway and raised her head. Her chin trembled from the force of restrained tears. She strode into the storm with the rigid gait of a soldier, and only long familiarity allowed Neil to see the crushing weight he’d laid on her shoulder.

Kevin rocked on his feet, incomprehension in his eyes. “Well?” Neil demanded. “You had as much role in this as she.”

“How could I have known?”

“You of all people should have known better than to trust Prince Riko again,” Neil said pitilessly. “Go.”

Kevin stumbled through the door, following Dan down the slope to the gate. Neil swung the doors shut behind them, blocking the wind. A little light still filtered in through a small rose window, the tinted glass casting a pool of pale blue and pink onto the stone floor.

Renee regarded him with a serious expression.

“Yes?” Neil snapped.

“Was that necessary?” she asked softly.

“Don’t act so reproachful,” Neil said. “If you truly objected to it, you would have contradicted me.”

Renee frowned, looking conflicted, but she didn’t argue.

“I’m going to check on Matt,” he said. “I think you have a funeral to prepare.”

He didn’t wait to see if she took issue with his abrasive tone, but strode out of the room towards the east wing. He stopped briefly at Matt’s chambers, where Nicky answered the door at his knock. He delivered the message, saying that he had done as they planned. If Nicky looked a little uneasy with the reality of it, well. That was his problem.

He didn’t linger to inflict his black mood on the others. He aimed first for his own chambers, linked to Matt’s by their shared sitting room, but they echoed cold and lonesome in the chilly silence. He threw open a window and fidgeted at his desk for only a minute before departing again, roving the manor like a caged wolf.

His feet moved almost without his bidding. He found himself unsurprised when he came to a halt outside of Andrew’s rooms, hand already raised to knock.

He didn’t hesitate. Andrew opened the door a moment later, rubbing his eyes. He looked a little rumpled in a way that he never did when he left his chambers for the day, like he’d just been sleeping.

“Can I come in?” Neil asked.

Andrew left the door open and retreated into his chambers. Neil took that as an invitation and closed the door behind him, studying the small space. His sitting-room was smaller than the one Neil shared with Matt, but surprisingly cozy. A bookshelf filled one corner of the room, and two plush-looking armchairs faced off with one another beside a stone fireplace that crackled with warmth. A window with a wide, pillow filled bench faced out across the orchard.

Andrew waited till Neil followed him into the room to take Neil by the elbows and pull him in. Neil rested his forehead against Andrew’s, closing his eyes. His thumbs pressed into the creases of Andrew’s elbows, feeling the hard muscle of his upper arm pressing back at him. It was surprisingly easy: to reach out, to touch. Though he supposed he had an advantage. Few people probably went into this sort of situation with prior knowledge of the depth and breadth of their counterpart’s sentiment.

If anything, he was surprised how naturally Andrew pulled him in, like he had no doubts that he was likewise welcome.

“I told Dan that Matt died,” Neil said.

He opened his eyes to find Andrew gazing at him across the narrow space between them. There was none of Renee’s censure in his eyes. “Why?”

“Honestly?” Neil said. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Because I was angry.”

Angry, incensed, enraged. He knew it was Prince Riko’s doing, but he could not help the vehemence with which he loathed seeing Matt in such a state.

In the end, it hadn’t been because Nicky had suggested it, offhand, or because Matt had fixated on the idea like a drowning man reaching for a rope. It hadn’t even been because of Allison’s comment that the news would provide a distraction from the current rumours. 

In the end, Neil had done it because he wanted to punish Dan.

“Do you think I was wrong to do it?” he asked.

“Right and wrong are justifications people invent to assuage their guilt,” Andrew said. “Reap what you sow or burn the field down; those are your only choices.”

Neil hummed discontentedly. He didn’t know if he could dismiss his misgivings so easily, but the lack of judgement in Andrew’s expression soothed a little of his agitation, like cold water against a burn. He closed his eyes again, leaning against Andrew’s forehead. Andrew’s thumb rubbed back and forth across his forearm, and Neil melted into the touch, the tension in his shoulders easing.

“Can I stay here?” he asked.

Andrew’s lips brushed his for the barest instant. “Yes,” he murmured, and Neil surrendered himself into a kiss, letting Andrew wipe his mind clean.

Their lips parted a minute or an hour later. Dust motes floated in the air around them, turned to tiny golden stars by the firelight.

Andrew tugged on Neil’s arms, guiding him to the windowsill. Neil went easily, folding himself in among the pillows and watching with fond amusement as Andrew crawled over him to tuck himself into the corner. Once he was settled he hooked his fingers in Neil’s shirt to move him into a more comfortable position, their sides pressed together and Neil’s head pillowed against Andrew’s shoulder.

He bit back a pleased smile, burrowing into Andrew’s warmth. Rain poured over the warped glass, turning the trees beyond into smeared, abstract shapes. 

When he blinked his eyes open, Andrew was staring at him, his eyes bright and nearly golden in the reflected firelight.

Neil stole another kiss before extracting a blanket from the pile of pillows and tossing it over their bodies. Lightning flashed bright and white, leaving spider-webbing lines on the inside of Neil’s eyelids. Thunder rumbled a moment later, reverberating through his bones.

He tucked his head into the crook of Andrew’s neck and felt Andrew rest his cheek on his temple in return. Neil let out a long sigh. Perhaps he should feel guilty for being so comfortable amid such strife, but he couldn’t muster the feeling.

Another crack of lightning flashed in the distance. Neil toyed with Andrew’s fingers, tracing the hard calluses on his palms and the little white scars of a brawler that crisscrossed his knuckles. Andrew watched him with hooded eyes, betraying nothing.

“It’s just a hand,” Andrew said. 

Neil smiled where Andrew couldn’t see him and interlaced their fingers together, squeezing slightly. “It’s your hand.”

He felt more than heard Andrew’s short intake of breath. “I thought you weren’t interested in that romantic drivel,” Andrew grumbled.

“I’m not,” Neil said.

“That’s not an answer.”

Neil hummed. Andrew hadn’t tried to extricate their hands, so he must not object too strongly. “I wasn’t lying,” he said. “I’ve never…wanted, like other people do. I suppose it all sounds rather nice, but in practice there’s never been anyone I wanted in that way.”

“Never? Not even just for an evening?”

Neil let out a breath of laughter. “No,” he said. “It doesn’t work like that for me.”

Andrew was silent for a long moment. Neil closed his eyes, the rain beating a steady staccato against the glass. “It does work like that,” Andrew said. “For me.”

“I know,” Neil said.

“Okay,” Andrew said.

His chest rose and fell like a bellows, strong and steady beneath their entwined hands. Neil’s mind drifted and he didn’t fight the drowsiness that followed. This wouldn’t be the end of this conversation, he was sure. But as the storm lashed the manor, tree branches skittering off the window, he sank into Andrew’s warmth and let the tide take him away.

* * *

Neil woke when the morning light was still grey, soft as a woollen blanket. He let his eyes stay closed for a long moment, savouring the warmth and comfort of the oversized quilt bunched around his shoulders.

He blinked, slow as syrup. Andrew watched him, his hair flyaway from sleep and his cheek squashed into the next pillow. Neil’s mouth quirked up sleepily and Andrew’s hand found his cheek, his thumb stroking down until he pressed against his lower lip. Neil sighed contentedly and pressed a little kiss to Andrew’s thumb before pulling himself upright.

Andrew dropped his hand, watching him silently. They’d spent all evening together, calling for dinner to be sent up to the room rather than leave the warm bubble of each other’s company. It hadn’t gone beyond kissing, though Neil thought it might, eventually. He thought he might like that.

He ducked his head to press a quick, warm kiss to Andrew’s mouth and crawled off the bed before he could get too distracted by the bruised redness of his lips. He pulled his shirt and trousers over Andrew’s loaned nightclothes; he could return them later.

He paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. Andrew hadn’t moved, still watching him with fathomless dark eyes. Neil opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. He slipped out the open door, leaving last night’s spell unbroken by words.

He tugged his shirt up to cover the marks Andrew had left on him and hastened to his own chambers to prepare. He met no-one in the empty halls, though he could hear movement behind most of the doors.

He lingered in his chambers just long enough to find a suitable set of clothing. Once garbed in a high-collared shirt and navy-blue vest, he quickly departed again, pausing only to be sure that there was no evidence on him of how he’d spent the night.

The sky was pale blue and candy-pink where clouds caught the sunlight from behind the hills. The chapel was cool and calm. Neil stepped out into the middle of the room, tipping his head up to gaze at the stained glass rose window above the altar.

He’d never taken to religion, but he liked the chapel. Renee had infused it with a sense of welcoming and safety that he’d never found in the great cathedrals of the cities. If holiness was real, he thought, then it lived here.

A creak of the door alerted him to another presence, and he turned on his heels. Matt gazed back at him. He wore a long black cloak, the hood pulled up to cast his face in shade.

Neil took his seat near the front while Matt tucked himself into the back, hidden from view except from Renee’s usual place at the podium. The others trickled in, solemn, taking their seats without a word. Renee herself arrived in her white robe, tied at the waist with a rope. It wasn’t her usual funeral garb, but Neil supposed she drew the line at being deceitful with her faith.

Dan and Kevin arrived last, striding in with a grimness the others could not fake. Renee cut a glance at Neil, but he kept stubbornly staring ahead of him.

She waited till Dan took a seat in the pew across from Neil to speak. “Two days ago,” she said. “Our family was rocked by a terrible tragedy—"

“I would like to say something,” Dan interrupted, standing. Renee paused, blinking in surprise, then graciously stepped aside.

Dan took her place at the lectern, her posture stiff. Her face was drawn, and dark bags hung beneath her eyes like bruises.

“I am sure by now all of you know the full story, and I will not waste time airing it again. I can only say this; that there is no end to my regret for this outcome. In my bid to protect myself, I acted with blind cruelty, and caused more pain than I ever could have dreamed.” She swallowed. Tears squeezed out the corners of her eyes. “I should have loved him better,” she said. “I should have trusted my family. And though it is inadequate, I am so, so sorry.”

She dropped her head, and abruptly Neil couldn’t stand the charade for a second longer. He sighed, long and loud. “Oh, get on with it,” he said.

“What?” Dan said. Then her eyes went wide, her mouth parting in wordless shock.

Neil turned and saw Matt standing in the aisle, his cloak a puddle of darkness on the floor around him. His chin was held high, tears glittering in his eyes. Dan reached backwards blindly, and Renee caught her, wrapping one arm around her to keep her upright.

“How?” Dan asked desperately, casting her eyes to Renee in a plea. “He was _dead_.”

“He died but while his slander lived,” Renee said.

“Oh god,” Dan said. “Matt, I am—”

Renee squeezed her briefly and then pushed her forward. Dan stumbled into the aisle, her eyes still wide and uncomprehending. Matt stepped forward to meet her, but she fell to her knees, taking one of his hands in both of hers.

“Stand up,” Matt said gently. “You know I would never want this from you.”

“Matt, I am so sorry,” Dan said. “When I thought you were dead—” She crushed her eyes closed, holding back a tidal wave of emotion. “I cannot apologize for being deceived,” she said. “But I misused you. Even if what we were told had been true, there is no excuse for how I treated you.”

“Dan,” Matt said, and she allowed him to pull her to her feet. He placed both of his hands on her shoulders, meeting her tear-filled eyes with the barest smile. “I never thought loving you would be easy,” he said. “Only that it was worth it.”

Dan choked back a sob and threw her arms around his neck. His arms closed around her, squeezing so hard her feet left the ground. Neil glanced up at Renee to see a tearful smile on her face, and then back at the pews, where Andrew was fending off a sobbing Nicky. Allison smirked, holding a hand out, and Renee took it and let herself get drawn into an embrace, a satisfied smile growing faintly on her lips.

Matt lowered Dan back to the ground and she pressed her cheek against his chest, murmuring something for his ears only. It made Matt’s smile widen, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, nuzzling into the soft fuzz of her hair.

She turned her head and sought Neil out, meeting his eyes. “I know this was your doing,” she said. Neil shrugged in acquiescence, and she gave him a watery smile. “You’re an asshole,” she said.

“I know.”

“I love you.”

He let one corner of his mouth quirk upwards. “I know.”

Wymack grumbled from his place in the pews, “You idiots are going to give me an ulcer.”

Abigail rolled her eyes fondly, patting his hand.

“So,” Kevin said. “This was all a ruse?”

“The part about Matt dying, anyhow,” Neil said. “Prince Riko’s role can’t be exaggerated.”

Kevin glared at his hands. “I should have known he would try something, if I allowed him back into my life,” he said. “I can’t believe I was such a fool.”

“He has already left town,” Dan said. “I checked at the inn last evening. He must have caught wind of Jean’s defection and fled.”

“I wanted to believe he could change,” Kevin whispered, clenching his fists, expression tight.

“Rest easy,” Andrew said, extricating himself from Nicky to stand by the end of the pew, just across from Neil. “Neil and I will ensure that vengeance is paid.”

Allison’s head swung around like a shark scenting blood in the water. She studied Andrew, then Neil, a slow smile widening across her face. “I suppose we’ll have to prepare another wedding now,” she said.

“No,” Neil said. “No more weddings. One debacle was enough for this week. Matt and Dan will just have to wait a little longer.”

“I wasn’t talking about Matt and Dan,” she said sweetly.

Nicky blinked at Allison, then his eyes went huge, swinging around to stare at Andrew. A half dozen pairs of eyes suddenly zeroed in on Neil and Andrew. Neil stepped back, his hackles going up instinctively.

“Oh my god,” Nicky breathed. “It worked.”

“What worked?” Neil demanded.

Nicky glanced around, meeting Allison’s gaze with a giddy grin. “ _Oh my god_.”

“Nicky. What. Worked,” Neil growled.

Nicky squeaked, ducking behind Erik’s larger frame as he caught the full force of Neil’s glare. Neil turned it on the others, an instinctive and inexplicable defensiveness in his gut. “You all seem to know what he’s talking about. What exactly ‘worked?’”

“It was just a foolish game,” Matt said. “We…um…may have made a bet. That Allison could make you and Andrew…um…”

He quailed under the force of Neil’s burning gaze. “That me and Andrew would what, exactly?” Neil said, enunciating each syllable with terrifying exactness.

“That I could make you and Andrew fall in _love_ ,” Allison said with relish. “So, tell me. Did I win?”

“Obviously not!” Neil said.

“Don’t be preposterous,” Andrew said, folding his arms.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” Renee said. “But I should perhaps mention that when I visited Matt last night, Neil was not in his own chambers.”

“ _Neil_ ,” Nicky said, scandalized and delighted.

“That’s not what happened,” Neil snapped. “And even if it had, it would have been for pity, after you and Matt revealed how pathetically Andrew pined for me!”

“Me?” Andrew said, outraged. “I never pined after you! But Dan and Renee certainly thought _you_ were nigh on dead for me!”

“So if you thought—” Neil said, realization dawning.

“And I thought—” Andrew said.

They stopped, slowly turning two furious glares on the rest of the group. Matt gulped. “Um,” he said. “Yes. That was all pretend. We made that up.”

“So it was all a lie,” Andrew said.

“Fine,” Neil said. “That’s fine. I wasn’t interested in you anyway.”

“And I wouldn’t be interested in you if you were the last man on earth,” Andrew said.

“Good.”

“Fine.”

 _“Fine_ ,” Neil said. “I guess I’ll just be—”

“Stop!” Nicky called, leaping out of his seat and brandishing a piece of paper from his pocket. “I have proof! A poem, which I stole from Andrew’s chambers the night before the wedding, which may bring some illumination to the situation.”

“How did you get that?” Andrew demanded, but Neil moved faster, snatching the page out of Nicky’s hand.

“And I found a letter!” Matt said. “Which Neil left in our shared sitting room, confessing _his_ feelings for Andrew!”

He dug the paper out of his waistcoat and Neil and Andrew lunged for it as one, grappling for possession of the two damning pages. Andrew got a hold of the letter first, and tried to get the poem too, but Neil rebuffed him with one hand, holding the poem away so Andrew couldn’t reach it.

“Oh,” he said. His eyes darted back and forth across the page, slowly deflating as he read.

Andrew made a half-hearted grab for the poem, still clutching Neil’s letter in his other hand. He scanned the page, a look of chagrin growing on his face.

“So,” Neil said, clearing his throat. “When they said you were writing bad poetry—”

Andrew jumped like a startled cat, snatching the poem out of Neil’s hand and tearing the two papers into tiny pieces. They floated down around them like fluttery white snowflakes.

Neil regarded Andrew. Andrew regarded Neil.

“So we’re going to pretend this never happened, right?” Neil said.

“Obviously,” Andrew said, nodding shortly. He straightened his coat, brushing a few fragments of love letter off his sleeve.

“Oh, come on—mph!” Nicky said as Erik slapped a hand over his mouth.

Neil shrugged, pursing his lips. He nodded. Andrew nodded.

They regarded each other some more.

“Do you want to go back to my room and make out?” Andrew asked.

“Oh, yes,” Neil said, relieved. “Let’s do that.”

Nicky let out a muffled squeal behind Erik’s hand. Neil pointed a threatening finger at the rest of them. “I am still going to murder all of you,” he said, and then followed Andrew out the side door and out of the room.

Silence rang in the small chapel for a long moment.

“Was that Neil and Andrew?” a voice asked from the doorway.

Everyone swung around. Aaron stood in the entrance, wearing his good black suit with a mourning lily in his buttonhole. “I came as soon as I heard…” he trailed off. “I thought Matt was dead?” he said, gesturing to where Matt and Dan were still tangled up in the aisle.

He looked around. Allison snorted, then a laugh burst from her mouth, and once she got going everyone did, faces in hands and clutching ribs, falling into each other in utter absurdity. Allison wiped her eyes, unable to speak for laughter.

Aaron stared at them, open-mouthed, for a long moment, but no answer was forthcoming. He gathered his wits and stormed up the aisle to where there was a small gong on the pedestal next to Renee’s podium. He seized the mallet and slammed it into the brass plate.

The sound crashed through the small space, reverberating so hard several people clutched their ears in agony.

Aaron folded his arms across his chest as the sound rang to a halt. “Now,” he said. “Is anyone going to tell me what in the _nine hells_ is going on?”

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh its finished! i finished a wip!!
> 
> thanks to everyone who stuck around for this self indulgent bit of tomfoolery ily
> 
> for other aftg-related nonsense, follow me on my [tumblr](https://writingpuddle.tumblr.com/)


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